10.1.13

Grief's a funny thing.  Not "ha ha" funny, but just... actually, scratch that. Grief's not a funny thing. And I hate that expression.  There's nothing funny about it; it just sucks.  Here's the thing: today is 12 years since my dad died, and yet at the time I'm currently typing this, I've been awake roughly 45 minutes and I've cried three times already today... because I miss my grandma.  And then I feel guilty because I feel like I shouldn't miss my grandma extra today - I should miss my dad extra today. 

 I posted once, five years ago according to my facebook page, that I remember today in flashes.  I remember hanging out with my friends until way too late at night before remembering that I had an early class the next morning and needed to get up early.  I remember someone knocking on the door of our dorm room at 2:30 in the morning, my roommate answering and sleepily telling me "it's for you", me looking and then pulling the covers back over my head because obviously this whole thing was a dream because why would my mother be standing in my doorway at 2:30 in the morning?  I remember seeing the university police officer who had let my mom into the building standing there and looking away when I looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on, and my honest to god first thought was that I was getting kicked out of school and trying desperately to figure out why.  Then thinking something had happened to my grandma and completely stopping moving until my mom assured me that nothing had happened to grandma.  I remember texting my college best friend (he knows who he is) at 2:30 in the morning, telling him that my dad had died so I wouldn't be meeting up with him for lunch or dinner or hanging out the next day, knowing he wouldn't read that text until hours later.  I remember sitting on the stairs at my grandparents' house and suddenly not being able to breathe because my dad was dead, my dad was dead, my dad was dead and someone handing me a glass of I don't know what (probably rum) to drink.  I don't remember the drive to Alabama, but I remember seeing his truck and waiting to see him, waiting for him to come around a corner and give me a hug and says "what's up girl?".  The funeral is a blur.  Everyone coming back to the house afterwards is a blur.  But I sure as hell remember sitting alone upstairs because I was panicking and couldn't remember the last time I'd talked to him, and scrolling back back back through my call log until I got to September 19th and remembered that last conversation and how it was an argument and I hung up mad and I didn't say "I love you".

My grandma told me that remembering the day in flashes, in little bits and pieces, was nature's way of helping you heal.  She said "We remember the good times in full color and and rough times in foggy black and white. But always there are memories. I prefer the happy, wonderful ones, these are always in my heart and so very easy to remember. They help fill days like today with joy not sadness. Your dad was a great person and a royal PIA. ... Today is to remember your father and my son with pride and joy, not sadness. I love you."  Those words made me cry because she's right and because I wish so so badly I could hear her say them again.

I miss my dad.  I miss my grandma.  I miss talking to them both, I miss hearing from them both.  I wish my dad could have met my wife.  I wish he could have met my brother's daughter, his granddaughter.  I wish he could have met my cousin's kids.  I wish he was still here.  I wish they were both still here.

I hate today.  My thoughts are jumbled and messy.  All I want to do is cry and go back to bed.  All I want to do is be alone.  But somehow also, all I want to do is be around my friends, my family, people I love.  I don't want to be touched, but I also want to hug my wife and never let go. I want to sit in silence and sadness, but I want to blast poppy happy upbeat Taylor Swift music until everything disappears and today goes away.  I want to pull the blankets over my head and lay in bed until the day ends but I want to be busy and distract myself until I can forget today.  It sucks.  It just really sucks.  And I know this is such a childish thought because nothing is ever "fair" but it's just not fair.  I'm so jealous of anyone in my life who still has both their parents. And who still has their grandma.  Because I don't anymore and I'd give anything anything anything to have more time.  And it isn't fair.