Don't Tell Me...

In the wake of my father's death, I am stuck between yesterday and tomorrow, but not in a "seize the day" or "smell the roses" or "enjoying today" kind of way. I feel like time is just sitting here and I'm unable to move forward. I am clothed in a palpable weight of sadness.

People mean well. I know they do, but I'm surprised by statements of how "blessed" and "lucky" I was to be with my father in his final days and hours. I don't feel blessed or lucky at all. In my world, if you did not have to watch your father suffer from the cruelest of diseases and then lose the battle, then YOU are the lucky one. It's not a gift that I no longer have this beautiful man in my life. I'm not lucky that we fought hard and had hopes of sharing another holiday together, only to have time run out. I'm not blessed that I got to hold dad's hand as he said goodbye because it means I'll never get to hold his hand again. I'll never get to drive him to another treatment and hear his silly stories. I'll never get to hear him say "Love ya" ever again. I'll never hear his laugh, his wonderful, contagious, and crazy laugh, ever again. And I'll never again see his face light up when I walk in the room.

I'm blessed to have had this man as my father, and maybe that's what people mean to say; but I am neither blessed nor lucky to have lost my father in the way that I did. Someday, I will come to terms with everything; but today, I simply wait for tomorrow.

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