Apr 2020
Written: April 23, 2019
No one can prepare you for death, no matter whom it is. But most importantly, no one can prepare you for losing a parent, a father. No one prepares you when you feel the need to take on the role as the strong one and care for everyone else. No one prepares you for the moments when you have to comfort your niece or mother because she lost someone dear to her too. No one prepares you for the grief that you will run away from but it'll eventually hit you like a ton of bricks. No one prepares you for that depression, anxiety, anger, resentment, guilt, wishes, and pain. No one prepares you for that feeling of losing the only man that truly ever loved you since they day you were born. You don't have that chance to prepare. You don't have that chance to heal in advanced.
Because you never know when it truly hits. You never know when it's going to happen, how its going to happen, where, and why. I faced days, wondering when I was going to feel my grief. Would it be during the service? Would it be during the burial? Would it be a week later? A month? A year? You're never prepared to have that heart wrenching hole inside your chest, missing the man you used to look up to. The man you wanted to be at one point.
It's been a year, today, and some days it still doesn't feel real. It still doesn't feel like a reality. It feels like I could just go home and see him. Like he will walk in that door and give me one of his hugs that I so desperately want and need. I struggled. I still struggle with this. I thought I could work through this on my own. I thought I was strong enough to get through college with a breeze, help others, and THEN worry about my problems. But I've learned all too quickly that that isn't the case. That that could never be the case. I needed help and I got it. I reached out among family, friends, professors, counselors, and God, seeking help. And through them, I am building my strength. Because strength isn't something you can obtain alone. It's best in numbers, it's best with support from those around you whom love you and care for you and your well being. I can't say that this grief process is getting any easier, but it's not getting harder. And I feel like I'm set to be on the right path. The path that will help me succeed and make my dad proud. Everyday is a struggle, slowly but surely, it'll turn into a smoother passage. I may be sharing this on deaf ears (or in this case blind eyes bc social media) but let this be and insight. Don't go through whatever you are going through, alone. Reach out. You're not alone in this and you never will be.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
It's been one year without you, today, Daddy. A year that has felt like an eternity and a day, all in one. It's funny how time works like that, huh. I love you and I hope I'm doing what I can to make you proud. I miss you.
No one can prepare you for death, no matter whom it is. But most importantly, no one can prepare you for losing a parent, a father. No one prepares you when you feel the need to take on the role as the strong one and care for everyone else. No one prepares you for the moments when you have to comfort your niece or mother because she lost someone dear to her too. No one prepares you for the grief that you will run away from but it'll eventually hit you like a ton of bricks. No one prepares you for that depression, anxiety, anger, resentment, guilt, wishes, and pain. No one prepares you for that feeling of losing the only man that truly ever loved you since they day you were born. You don't have that chance to prepare. You don't have that chance to heal in advanced.
Because you never know when it truly hits. You never know when it's going to happen, how its going to happen, where, and why. I faced days, wondering when I was going to feel my grief. Would it be during the service? Would it be during the burial? Would it be a week later? A month? A year? You're never prepared to have that heart wrenching hole inside your chest, missing the man you used to look up to. The man you wanted to be at one point.
It's been a year, today, and some days it still doesn't feel real. It still doesn't feel like a reality. It feels like I could just go home and see him. Like he will walk in that door and give me one of his hugs that I so desperately want and need. I struggled. I still struggle with this. I thought I could work through this on my own. I thought I was strong enough to get through college with a breeze, help others, and THEN worry about my problems. But I've learned all too quickly that that isn't the case. That that could never be the case. I needed help and I got it. I reached out among family, friends, professors, counselors, and God, seeking help. And through them, I am building my strength. Because strength isn't something you can obtain alone. It's best in numbers, it's best with support from those around you whom love you and care for you and your well being. I can't say that this grief process is getting any easier, but it's not getting harder. And I feel like I'm set to be on the right path. The path that will help me succeed and make my dad proud. Everyday is a struggle, slowly but surely, it'll turn into a smoother passage. I may be sharing this on deaf ears (or in this case blind eyes bc social media) but let this be and insight. Don't go through whatever you are going through, alone. Reach out. You're not alone in this and you never will be.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
It's been one year without you, today, Daddy. A year that has felt like an eternity and a day, all in one. It's funny how time works like that, huh. I love you and I hope I'm doing what I can to make you proud. I miss you.
Something I wrote on my dads death-iversary
