“When your father dies suddenly, you’ll spend days wondering if it was just a mistake.”
Nobody knew how I crumbled every single time I was alone.
When your father dies suddenly, you’ll spend days wondering if it was just a mistake.
“Not my dad, no, it can’t be him. He was active. He mowed lawns for three neighbors. He shoveled for them. He gardened. He was healthy; he stopped eating junk food and drinking soda.”
You’ll think of all the ways he was healthy, and all the reasons why he shouldn’t have died so young. You’ll be angry at him for leaving your family, and sad he won’t be there to participate in your life anymore. You’ll be sad, because you were just starting to build a better relationship with him.
You will sob uncontrollably when you get the phone call. Your significant other will drive you home, and you’ll be too distracted to remind them of which way to go.
You’ll start crying again when you see your father’s coffee cup, still sitting in its normal corner of the kitchen table. You’ll go into your room and search for the hat he gave you when you were in second grade, and place it next to your bed.
You’ll be staying with your Mom for a while. She’s going to need you. The first morning after he’s gone, you’ll find her staring out the window.
She’ll start to cry and all you can do is put your arms around her. She’ll look at you and say, “I really love your father.” And you’ll say, “I know. He really loves you too.” You’ll keep referring to him in present tense, and then kick yourself afterwards like it only reminded everyone that he is gone.
A few more days will go by, and you’ll start to get yourself together. You won’t cry every morning, noon and night. You’ll start to accept that he won’t be there when you graduate college in the spring, or walk you down in your future years. It’s okay, you think to yourself. He knew I was going to be okay, and that’s what really matters.
But by the time people do finally start to leave, you’ll be tired and cranky. You won’t really care to receive any more condolences, or to have forced conversations with distant relatives you barely recognize.
You’ll just want to say goodbye to your father. Alone.
You’ll go home with some of the flowers you brought for him. You’ll reminisce. You’ll cry alone in his room with the door closed, because you don’t want anyone to see you. You’ll worry about your mom because she’s not eating much, about the exam you have to make up, and about the life that goes on.
And you’ll worry about nothing, because suddenly everything seems so unimportant.
All that seems to matter is that he’s gone, and one day you will be too.
I still need him. Just the other day I said to myself, “Dad would know what to do here.” and started to call his cell phone, only to realize that it was on the table beside of me.
I tried to put on a brave face for everyone and people were amazed at how well I was dealing with his passing. Nobody knew how I crumbled every single time I was alone.
I got through all that okay, but it all seems so unreal to me still. I have good days because my greatest source of support has been my family and friends who have been absolutely amazing for helping me coped with grief and loss. But I have many bad times as well. Seems I spend every night from 3am-5am crying and thinking about him. It is like I can’t seem to grieve in public and so I can’t seem to move forward on this.
I know I’m in shock, but when the thought of him being no longer alive floods into my mind I feel an overwhelming emptiness, and horrible sadness of how unfair it was that he was taken from us so suddenly.. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, and hear him call me “Ade” one more time.
I feel so alone.