This pain never really goes away. The loss of a father is deep. So deep that I don’t even think I’ve tapped into it’s depths yet.
Because there are so many intricate parts of life I am discovering and seeing where life without him is incomplete.
It’s been two months today. Two months ago I thought it was just another day. I woke up super early, worked out and then came home to make green smoothies for dad. I wanted to be at the hospital by 8. And then my sister called and said they were only giving him three days at the most to live.
I was in utter shock and fell apart right there in the kitchen. Literally hung up the phone and melted down onto the floor, celery in hand…. I cried. I cried so hard because I didn’t want it to be true at all. I didn’t want death to become a reality.
Then I picked myself up and finished the green smoothie. In my mind…. well in my mind he was still alive. I even said that. I told my family, “it doesn’t matter. He’s still alive. He’s still alive and we’ve still got a chance.”
Today I wonder… I wonder if dad was fighting at all. Fighting to live. And honestly I don’t believe he was. I think he was in so much pain that he was ready to die.
Funny that when his pain ended…. our pain began.
People keep saying, and I agree that it’s wonderful that he’s in a place where he’s no longer in pain and suffering…. but why is it that we have to feel pain now? Why do I have to come home from work and find my sister in tears, holding a BAMA monkey my father gave her, just wishing and regretting all at once? And why is it that I have to call my grandparents….. my grandparents who are late 80s/early 90s and hear them talk about their grief? They shouldn’t have to be living through this at all.
And of course, why do I have to pick up the phone and listen to my mom cry and hurt? I hate hearing her pain the most. It’s so sad. And I hate it. I hate it so much. She’s moving forward…. finishing the house… and really gaining a significant amount of confidence…. but why does it have to be like this?
And I know and believe so many better days are ahead… I mean I feel like I’m already living in a few of them…. but pain isn’t fun. I don’t wish this pain on anyone, yet we’ll all experience it in one way or another. We all have parents… so loosing them is universal.
You know…. it’s true, we do have to live with the consequence of his death and that is a lot of pain…. but the consequence of him staying a live, being here…. well it might have meant pain too. Maybe this pain we are feeling now… the pain of absence and lack of fullness, maybe it’s better than the pain of dad being here… suffering in a bed.
He never wanted that at all. He never ever in his entire life wanted to be my grandmother…. a patient in a bed waiting to die…. that’s not the Chris Winder I knew. Maybe that’s why he choose to tolerate pain so well everyday… to carry it around with him and let the world move around him, and try to enjoy it for all that it was worth. He didn’t want pain to bring him down… and honestly, he didn’t.
He was strong and some might see it as weak, but right now I see it as strong… the fact that he didn’t lay around whining about the pain he was feeling from the disease that was ravaging his body. He just lived. He lived in and with it everyday.
I complain about bumps, bruises and broken nails…. and my father is over there letting cancer multiply and grow in his body…. and I didn’t hear him complain.
In so many ways I respect him for that. I respect him and I’m angry with him. I’m angry because maybe if I knew the fullness of his pain…. well maybe he would’ve gotten treatment sooner… but then I respect him because that’s very valiant and brave to sit in pain and not complain.
So….. as I step forth into this day, this Saturday…. I hope I can remember him without a complete breakdown. Because honestly, two months will soon become three… which will become 6 and then a year…. time will continue to pass and I will have to live on the 2nd of every month knowing it’s another month separating me from the moment I lost my dad…. but it’s just time.
One day I’ll be with him forever.