Rest in peace Dad. You passed away at noon today, May 9th, 2012. You will not live to see if the world ends on your birthday. (12/21/2012 btw) I'm sorry I wasn't there. It makes me so incredibly angry, but things work out the way they work out, and there's nothing left to do but pick up the pieces. Tiny little jagged pieces, like glass all over the floor. No matter what method you try, you can never get all the pieces.
So I took time to study for Evidence. I was up all night long and went to sleep at around 8 am. Around 1pm, I wake up with Mitch staring at my face. I was confused, because he's supposed to be at work. I kept asking him, "why are you here?" Then he hits me with "your dad passed away." I look at my phone. No missed calls. Apparently I'm not to be trusted with this information firsthand from the people who were there. They sent Mitch.
"Well, your mom and I worked it out that I would be the one to tell you if it happened."
"Did anyone think to ask me whether I'd want to know right away? Because I would have. Which you would have known had you fucking asked me. I'm not a child."
Apparently I deal with grief, to some extent, by getting very angry. However, it makes me so mad to know that he took a turn for the worse last night and nobody called me. I've been there for weeks. The one day it mattered, they wanted to let me study. My father asked for me and I wasn't there. This is not the way this story should end, and yet it concludes.
Don't bother Krisi. She needs to study. This has been really hard on her, but she needs to focus.
No, you assholes, she needs her daddy. Thanks for trying to be considerate, truly. However, I've found over time that consideration is much more aptly placed when it involves considering the wishes of the person to whom the sentiment is directed, at least as much as possible. My point? I have been forthcoming about the fact that I wanted to be there with him. Yes, it was uncomfortable. Yes, it was pure hell at times. But knowing that my daddy left this earth without me there, knowing that he was asking for me, makes me want to pull out my hair in large chunks.
Please do not take this entry out of context. I was very angry because I lost my father, and was seeking a target. My mother and stepfather completely halted their entire lives to take care of my father in between his hospital stays, so it wouldn't all fall to me. My mother put lotion on his feet, changed his bed, got up every hour on the hour to look after him. She played him music, made sure he was comfortable, and did everything she could. My stepfather not only welcomed his wife's ex-husband into his home, but actively participated in his care. He promised my father that he'd feel no pain, and he delivered on that promise in daddy's last days. I almost hate that I posted this blog, but I swore I wouldn't delete any posts.
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