The process of losing my dad
I sit in my car sometimes and try to think of memories of my dad and I. I have a few from when I was little, but he was an alcoholic most of my life… and then there was the crack. He started smoking crack (again) when I was a junior in high school. I lived in a different state by this time, so I only learned of this through my brother.
It is hard to think of a dad who wasn’t really there for me. It is hard to not be angry at a man who didn’t have the emotional resources to reach out to me and love me. I get so mad that I feel the need to get my ‘daddy hug’ from other men because mine didn’t care to. Still, I never wished him dead. I wished him to get better. But he never did.
He eventually died of kidney failure. He had double pneumonia (= in both lungs), a staph infection in his bloodstream, and hepatitis of some strand.
There are some days that feel completely normal. There are others that don’t feel normal at all; it feels like a sick ride at an amusement park that I’m trapped in. I don’t enjoy this process at all, but I recognize it as good. I have hope that one day I can make it into the acceptance portion. And I feel like I’m mentally smart enough to get it, but emotionally I have some work to do. I will continue to work knowing that I don’t want my dad to suck more life from me than necessary. I just want to feel complete again…
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