I really don’t even know where to begin other than to just say it.
My dad died today.
Yesterday he was swinging the girls on the swing set, laughing at the funny faces they were making while I took photos of them in their Easter dresses and joking with me about this supposed snow storm. It was just a normal weekend visit.
And today he’s dead.
It’s not funny but I cried and laughed over the fact that when I took this picture yesterday he was batting the camera away from his face. Like his daughter, he hates having his picture taken. But then I laid on the puppy dog eyes, pouting lips and begged for him to just smile once. My exact words, “you never know, you could die tomorrow and I’d never have a picture of you.” I want to write those words on a piece of paper and stab the shit out of them. I never thought they could be true. I’ll give the picture back if I can have my daddy back. That’s what I’ve been pleading to the God I don’t believe in for the last 3 hours.
But mostly I’m just angry. I’ve cried all the tears I can today and now I just want things the way they’re suppose to be.
I want to see my dad sitting in his chair drinking a glass of tea. I want to hear him bitching about the snow and curse the weather man for actually getting a prediction right for once. I want to stop having to explain to my 4 and 5 year old daughters what it means to be dead and why we won’t be going on that canoe trip with their PaPa in May. I don’t want my dad to be dead. It’s not right, it’s too soon and I can’t handle it. He has been my best friend for 30 years. We’re suppose to be talking about what to have for Easter dinner and arranging a weekend sleepover for Matt. Not deciding if some one gets his organs and listening to a stone faced surgeon tell us there’s nothing they can do. Damn it! They’re doctors, they’re suppose to do SOMETHING!
People survive strokes all the time. Why not my dad? He just turned 60. He’s strong, smart and should be here to watch his first granddaughter graduate high school in May, to see his last granddaughter start Kindergarten, to help Kaydee ride her bike on two wheels to watch his grandson play a football game and see the Packers go to the Superbowl.
I’m so angry and none of it makes sense. I don’t know how to handle any of this. Am I just suppose to pretend it didn’t happen and go back to life as usual? Do I lay in bed and cry myself to sleep? I’m scared and lost. I just don’t know what to do. I need to fix this!