I have been pondering this post for a while now, not knowing exactly what to say. A little over 2 weeks ago, my Father died in an accident in his driveway. He was 57. Way too young to die. I was cose to my Dad. I probably talked to him 4 times a week at least. I found out about his accident in possibly the worst way possible. My oldest son had been without a hit this baseball season, at the time 4 games. He was really upset with himself. Well, that nigt, he finally got a hit. When we left the game, I called my Dad’s cell phone and handed it to my son. I heard him explaining his hit a few times and he handed me the phone. It wasn’t my Dad, but a friend of my Dad’s telling me there was an accident.
After returning from the memorial, it was back to work for a few days, then Disneyland. My children have never been there, so we had a lot of fun. It couldn’t have come at a better time as my oldest son was really close to my Dad and he has been pretty upset over the loss of his Grandfather. I love Disneyland, but whenever I get back, I find myself with a new outlook on people. This is not a positive thing. From the skanky woman in line for Nemo who dropped her keys on the ground and then gave her boyfriend some sort of standing lapdance while picking up her keys, to the couple in their late 40’s-early 50’s making out in the Peter Pan line, tongue and all, I found a new disgust in people. Disneyland is a amusement park for families and kids to have fun. It is not a place to talk (in front of my kids) about how much you like to smoke pot. It is not a place to grope your girlfriend while standing in line to go on Peter Pan. Anyway, I digress. It was a good time.
The problem now, however is that I haven’t had time to really mourn the loss of my Father. I have been strong for my family and all my friends who have been there for support. I simply haven’t had time for myself. I keep picturing how everything must have happened in my head when I go to bed at night. I find myself crying in the shower. About once a day I think “I should call my Dad to tell him….” then it dawns on me that I will never get to call him again. I’ll never get his advice or a big hug from him again. I miss him. There is an emptiness in my heart and a hole in my soul. It feels like a huge part of me was ripped away. I wonder if the hole will evenually start to heal.
