Friday, August 21, 2015
"Do you think 10 years from now it won't hurt as bad..." "I don't know babe. I don't know."
The tears fill the void of something so huge it's unexplainable. A complete void in my life... a deep crevasse so long you can't see the end and you wonder what else it can swallow whole. I thought when cancer reared it's disgusting head in a hospital waiting room 4 years ago that this was the extent of the ugliness it bared. Little did I know that this ugliness would reach farther into my life and the future than I could've ever imagined. Don't get me wrong, every day life is far beyond cancer. The piece that it stole will never be replaced but the shattered brokenness is slowly less jagged and rough. The majority of days are vastly happy and full of exuberance and LIFE. Take that cancer you asshole.... LIFE..... did you hear me????
But there is no denying the hurt and void from a person so missed it must be viscerally obvious to those around me. Is it not? My Dad was a damn rockstar, he had plenty of faults but he owned that shit. At least to me, he owned it. I resonate with his life philosophy. I am surely no perfect peach here, I am sassy, feisty, smart, gregarious, full of piss and vinegar at times (of which I am NOT ashamed), stubborn, sensitive, shy, and highly complicated just as my father. He had a certain way about him, you were either on one side of his coin or the other and I probably sat on a random 3rd side of that coin.... he and I got each other. We surely were together in some previous lifetime which makes his absence all the more devastating to me and my family.
He will NEVER know my third son. It rips my heart apart to type that. It's so cliche to say things like "of course he does, he's always with you" well goddammit if that were true things would feel much easier. Let me be the first to enlighten everyone, how the heck do we know he's still around... I think I know, I think I believe it, I tell my kids I do but death means that you're in another place that no one, no where, actually knows about. Comforting is not exactly how I'd describe those sentiments although you'll hear me tell myself that very thing on nearly a daily basis. It's clinging to hope of some sort... it wouldn't be human to give up on that idea right??
2 years. How has it been 2 years since I watched a hoard of firemen carry my frail father up flights of stairs to his final resting place with a smile as I greeted him "you're home Dad. you're home." His look conveyed that he understood what was happening. He knew he was coming home to die.... gee what a wonderful thing to behold. His saving grace, I'm sure, was his pure exhaustion with the circumstances.... despite my profuse protest in his medical care at the end I was not the power of attorney.... I can't elaborate on that at this point, it's too much... but the end result is that my Dad made his way home where he wanted to be to spend his final days with us. I was there every. single. day. It was 5 days from the moment he left the hospital until I received the phone call that he had gone Home.
What would he be thinking today if he were here... what would he think of my crazy 3 boys... of little baby C??? Would he like our new house... What input would he have on the engine swap for the S10...What jokes would he crack about my nephew and watching my brother as a Dad... Would he want to teach my boys to ride motocross like he did... Would he be at their T-ball games.... Would he be there to witness me graduate with my masters degree...
I have 2 years + a lifetime of questions to ponder, scenarios of what-ifs... a void to fill that can never be filled. I have lived an experience that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies and survived a loss that many peers, family, and friends will one day experience.... yet I feel I have no wisdom gained from my shitastic experience.... What do I tell them if and when they reach a similar fate... it sucks. Less than encouraging. 2 years in and it still feels like a dagger to the heart.
I guess my only silver lining thus far is that the hurt must equate with the loss. I lost an amazing man and that is a level of hurt that won't soon be gone.
This August 22nd... I toast to you Dad... to the Mad Max rockstar that you were... for the zero apologies you made for being you... to the influence you had on me and my life.... to the gene pool you left my awesome dudes...
I CAN'T WAIT for the day I see you again old man!!!! I can't flippin wait. You better pick my butt up on your Dyna and ride me off into the sunset. I love you. I miss you.I miss you every day.