I’ve tried writing this post several time now and never quite made it all the way though, but I’m tired of pondering it. So, here it is.
My dad died. Not, you know, like yesterday. He died at the end of November. We weren’t able to have his memorial until January. His ashes have yet to be scattered. His birthday is next month. The past few months have generally been, pardon my sweariness, a clusterfuck of emotions for me. I bounce somewhere between happy memories, sadness, and anger at any point during the day. And, ultimately, just when I think my feelings are leveling off, something blind sides me and we start over again. I guess that’s normal. Normal, for having a dead dad.
Last night I woke up at 3am, in the middle of a weird dream about my five uncles. This dream is weird because I don’t actually have five uncles. But, there they were in my dream, nonetheless, looking completely and totally alike, all with the same name, and me very confused as to which one was which. In my dream, my dad said, “The tall one is your uncle!” In my dream they were all under 5’8″. I realize this makes absolutely no sense and that was the exact reaction I had when I woke up. This makes no sense! Then I laid there, laid a bit, and smiled thinking about how insane I was and what kind of conversation I would have with my dad about it after daylight. Problem is, I don’t have a dad.
These are the realizations that hit me at any point throughout the day. My dad’s number is still in my cell phone. I could, realistically, call it at any point. I’m guessing its someone else’s number now, or disconnected, but its there all the same. Sabine was really sick last week … she had the flu, and I had the flu, and I was scared. I knew my dad would be scared too but that ultimately he’d have something witty and sensible to say that would make me feel better. I wanted to hear whatever that was. I NEEDED to hear it, but I couldn’t. I don’t understand how people don’t drive themselves completely insane during this “transitional” period … where it feels like the person you’ve lost is just gone on vacation. Or under the weather. When it feels like, any minute, your phone will ring and you’ll have time to catch up.
I miss my dad. I grieve for the fact that Sabine will never know her granddad. My mom’s dad died when I was a toddler. I don’t remember him. I’ve spent copious amounts of time asking about him, learning about him, and wondering what in me ties me to him. How am I like him? I don’t want her to wonder those things … I want her to KNOW. I want her to know how much he loved her. How much he loved ME. And I want her to feel that same sense of security from her own dad, which I know she does, but it has become exponentially important to me now.
When my dad was dying he told me that he could see Sabine. “She’s about 13. And she’s a rebel. She’s going to change the world.” As apprehensive as it makes me to think about a world changing 13 year old, she’s already changed my world, so I guess its plausible. I hope she changed his a little as well. I hope he’ll be watching her change it later. I hope he’s watching us now.