I originally started this blog to help get my crazy thoughts and emotions out of my head about cancer; about my Melanoma. I never could have imagined that this silly blog would help me with thoughts about a new, different and even tougher subject: Death. Death of our father...death of my dad.
So far, one of the hardest parts about all of this is grappling with the feelings that I wasn't worried when he was 'missing'. My aunt was concerned and that's what made me concerned. Auntie K reached out during the day and I reassured her that nothing was wrong...although when I got home that Monday evening, I just couldn't get dad off of my mind. Almost a full fucking week, and I wasn't worried!? Dad had been gone for 6 full days and I felt nothing; I was oblivious. And that makes me feel really, really shitty.
No dreams. No intuition. No...nothing.
Dad did the same thing about a year ago - he took off to camp/fish/gold pan/whatever the hell he was doing and was gone for about 5 days without really telling anyone anything. The obvious difference with this story is that he arrived back home, alive and well. So, I guess that's why I wasn't worried...he's done this before. But that doesn't change the feeling of absolute, guilt - kind of like I let him down. Now...I understand that knowing where he was wouldn't have prevented his accident by any means, but at least he wouldn't have been lying in a cold morgue as a fucking 'John Doe' for however many days. And that makes me feel really, really shitty.
Another hard part is that I still don't feel like he's gone. Maybe that's normal. Maybe it's because we're taking someone else's word that the "body" they found was his? They told us the finger prints matched, we have his truck, his keys, his wallet, his phone and last but not least, his ashes; but we never got to see "him". We never got to see our dad's body. Not that we necessarily wanted to see it given the circumstances of the circumstances (i.e. major head trauma, his upper body being in moving water for about 2 days and...well, he'd been 'gone' for 7 days at that point). His body, our dad, wouldn't have looked anywhere close to the big, happy man that we knew and loved so well.
I guess in a way, there will forever be an opening in the closure that we all so desperately need.
Sometimes I get a short break in reality to see this fleeting glimmer of hope that he will show up somewhere, but I know that's never going to happen. Then there are other times when I think that he can now go wherever his little heart desired. He could be ghosting around a beautiful beach somewhere checking out chicks in teeny, tiny bikinis. He could be ghosting around an amazing lake skipping rocks. He could be ghosting around any river/creek with huge boulders and standing on the edge without a care in the world. Regardless, I miss him :(
This is all totally new. It's a terrible emotional roller coaster ride and we have just passed week two (since finding him). Week two, people!?! jesus, it seems like so much longer...and I have the rest of my life to go... I just need to get used to, or at least sort of used to, the movements of this roller coaster and go with the flow because there's nothing that I can do to change it.
We love and miss you SO much, dad!
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