Happy Birthday, and My Condolences.

let's get personal for a moment.

i've been thinking about fathers quite a bit lately as my manager's dad passed away last week. what shitty timing. it stinks to lose anyone around the holidays, even if you have time to "prepare" so to speak and know it's coming... a loss is a loss and it's never easy. i can only hope that Christmases going forward don't always remind her of having to bury her father... if they do though, i wouldn't blame her. i know what that's like.

the year it happened.

my father passed away right before my 21st birthday. i received the call late at night from my grandmother, and then my uncle. for hours, i was completely numb and shocked by the news. i sat in the corner of my bedroom hugging my knees to my chest. the lights were off, there was a faint glow from a muted TV and i had a box of tissues next to me that grew emptier as the night wore on. i was still smoking then and remember lighting cigarette after cigarette as i tried to 1) digest the news and 2) figure out how to tell my siblings. i don't think i slept much that night. 

the next morning, i called my best friend and asked her to cancel my birthday party. i couldn't fathom celebrating under the circumstances... but for some reason, the party went on because folks thought i should celebrate to take my mind off of the situation. i agreed to it, but in retrospect, it was a bad idea because all i remember of that birthday is complete misery and everyone's awkwardness as they walked on eggshells around me. were they supposed to say happy birthday then i'm sorry? or.... woohoo! the big 2-1, and my condolences? no one knew how they were supposed to act under those circumstances, including me. it was really confusing.

the following years.

i struggle every year when my birthday comes around. i don't want to acknowledge the time period so i always joke that i don't like celebrating because i'm horrified about getting older. the excuse works although friends and family continue to be surprised every year that i don't want to celebrate (being the attention whore they think i am)... but the truth is, i feel weird celebrating the day i was born when it's the time that i'm to be honoring my father's death anniversary, the day he died. sure, it sounds somewhat poetic - a complete circle of life, right? but believe me, it's not... so every August since he passed, i find myself becoming pretty introspective, reflecting upon the loss... and then dealing with the guilt i still carry for my lack of presence during the time leading up to his death. years later, i've not fully figured out how to deal with it.

i always backtrack and think about the last conversation i had with him and how i wish it had been different. i wish i wasn't being a stubborn 20 year old who was trying to "live her life" and get off the phone rather than spending a few quality minutes talking to her old man. i wish i had been more perceptive and picked up on the fact that he wasn't being mushy for the sake of being mushy when he said he was proud of me for being in school and doing it all on my own... he probably knew that it was one of, if not, the very last conversation we'd have. yet i just brushed it off. i wish i had expressed that i believed he did the best he could under the circumstances we were under, and that he was a good, good man. and i wish i would have told him that i loved him dearly - not just one of those obligatory shout outs of, "i love you too!"

but when you're 20 years old, none of those words seem to come out so easily... so then you find yourself in a situation years later where it's simply too late and you're full of regret.

this year.

interestingly, this year, my birthday came and went and i actually forgot about my father's death anniversary. i was so caught up in the day-to-day shenanigans of my life that the date completely passed me by. sure, we could argue that this is actually positive. maybe this is the year where i have finally grown to accept the loss. i wish that were the case...

a week or so after my birthday, i realized i had overlooked his death anniversary. i was horrified... and that night, alone in my apartment, i bawled. the tears weren't so much about the loss itself. nor was it disappointment in myself for the utter lack of respect i had shown in not honoring him. i freaked out worrying that perhaps this was beginning of forgetting everything about him. so i ransacked my apartment looking for my favorite photograph of him in order to see his face again. and i tried to bring back as many memories as i could - replanting them close to the front, right at the top of my memory, making them new and fresh again. and that helped some. but i still was mortified by the idea of forgetting the details of him and his life.

i cried myself to sleep that night.

today.

little things here and there remind me of him. lately, it's been in the morning as my alarm goes and i'm struggling to get out of bed. i think about how he used to battle trying to get me out the door for school. my alarm would go off and i would ignore it just as i do now... so to shock me out of bed, he would pull all of my covers off and begin hollering about how i was going to be late (yet again). when that didn't work, he'd come back to my room, sit at the edge of my bed and rather than rudely dragging me into reality, he'd slowly rub my back until i opened my eyes... it was the best and most comforting way to pull me away from my dreams.

now days, as my alarm blasts in the morning... i sometimes wait with my eyes shut really tight, hoping and wishing he'll come in at any moment and sit down at the edge of my bed to gently wake me. it's hard to leave my dreams and wake up though to only realize he's not there and won't be there to ever do that again... so i hit the snooze button repeatedly, and try to get back to my dreams where we're there together. it's no wonder i have such trouble waking up...

***

and these are the things dreams are made of. here's throwback for you - a "vintage" polaroid photograph of my mother, father and me at Disneyland... the happiest place on earth. happy holidays to you and your family.

Comments

[Lisa]

Your dad is smiling right now, at you. Happy holidays.