I'm Baaaaack

Well, after a lengthy hiatus from blogging (that damn Facebook taking up my time), I have decided to write a little ditty today. May I remind you again that this blog is like therapy for me -but cheaper. So, I don't promise this post will be all sunshine and roses. Ooooh, sunshine and roses. Doesn't that sound dreamy?
Today marks the twentieth day I have been without my Dad. Wow. Only 20 days? Some days it seems like he has been gone forever. Other days....well suffice it to say, reality bites.
I was able to be with my Dad when he died. Well, across the hall anyway. I think he preferred it that way. I had been in his room talking with him only moments before he passed. I looked in. He was pale. I knew he was gone. I just couldn't handle the finality of it all. I thought I had more time. There is never enough time.
I was also lucky enough to have the opportunity to tell my Dad everything I wanted him to know the night before he died. I am not a religious person (spiritual, but not religious) but something made me talk to my dad that night. I had to. Not only did I need him to know how I felt about him, he deserved to know. I had hesitated telling him before that night. Afraid if I said the words, he would die sooner. Like it was a secret. Maybe he didn't know how sick he was. Maybe not acknowledging it would make it go away. My modus operandi.
I had drafted a letter days before. A letter that would later become my talk at his funeral. I considered throwing it at him and running. I thought maybe I could just quietly leave it by his bedside and slip away. If he didn't see it, surely my mom would and she would read it to him. I wouldn't have to. But, I did.
I told my Dad how proud I was to be his daughter. How much I appreciated all the sacrifices he had made for me. How his influence had shaped me into the person I am today. How much I loved him. Oh, how I loved him.
We called Hospice and they came and cleaned him up. Got him dressed. Made him look like my Daddy again. What a handsome man he was. They said I could help them get him all prepared. I wanted to. I couldn't. We called the mortuary. I dreaded them coming. I didn't want them to take my Dad from his home. That was were he belonged. Home. With us. But he was already gone. They came. The took him. I couldn't bear watching.
It was time to make preparations. My Dad had already planned for this. He was a planner all of his life. Why not in death. He had asked his two best friends to speak at his funeral. He knew. We picked out caskets, designed programs, wrote the obituary. Part of the meaningless, necessary part of death. All surreal. All so pointless it seems.
The day of the service came. I would have preferred to be anywhere but there. I hate hearing people look into a casket and say "He looks so good." Senseless. He is dead. He looks dead.
I am however blessed beyond measure. Dan's Aunt came from Colorado to support me. She is my rock. Countless people called, sent cards, came to the services. For all of those people, I am grateful beyond words. You held me up. You kept me strong. Thank you.
I am lucky to have my husband. Without his insight and love and patience, I would be lost. He is thoughtful, loving, amazing. My girls, although challenging at times such as these, sustain me. Give me reason to wake up everyday. Put life in perspective.
I will miss my Dad,but I know he is with me. He will always be with me. He will love me in death as he did in life. Unconditionally and without judgment.
I love you, dad.