So, my dad died…
I’m not sure how to deal with it. I really do wish that you got a manual when you were born.
“Dear Naked Butt Baby,
This is your manual that you will carry with you for life. It deals with things you will encounter along the way and has nifty headings and coloured tags, for example, “You Think You Are Ready To Shag But How Can You Be Certain.” Or “You Have Just Discovered That You Had a Really Shitty Childhood, How Do You Deal With it?”
Alas, no manual. You just kind of have to wing it on your own. If you are one of the lucky ones, you have a supportive family you can rely on – like brothers, sisters, a loving mother… a family.
So, my dad died…
It wasn’t really unexpected. He hadn’t been well for some time now and eventually he just stopped breathing in the oxygen attached to his face and he slipped away peacefully in his hospital bed.
But it’s still shocking though. You can expect it but it doesn’t stop the shock and the wave of gnawing sadness.
It happened on the 24 January 2014. I got the ‘phone call from my mother at about 19:30 or thereabouts…
Today is the first day that I have had to sort of sit down and say to myself “So, my dad died…”
It’s kind of sad…
We found out on the Friday evening… and I sort of spent the weekend going through the motions, smiling, laughing, being happy and then realising… Hey, dad died. And then I wasn’t really smiling and laughing and being happy anymore. After a while though, I rallied and put on my game face and I was smiling and laughing and happy again.
That’s my problem though, when I am really, really sad, or really, really upset or really, really angry with the world… I smile and laugh and be happy. Because no one is allowed to know that Janine is really, really sad… end of the world, rip my heart out, sad.
I went to work for two days after the weekend of ‘smiling, laughing and being happy.’ Oh, you know, there was work to be done and, why wouldn’t I got to work? It’s just my dad who died. And it’s just me, nothing important.
I finally took off from the Wednesday and I slept most of the day. The next day was up to the mother, to be with her, make sure she is okay, help her where possible. And then the Friday was spent running around for The Highlander’s birthday party.
Yes, in the midst of the chaos, mess and mourning, we had a birthday party.
It’s my fault. I could have said “Hey, my dad died, I’m not really up to this.” And it would have been fine – everyone would have understood and we could easily have done it another time. But no, why? It’s just me, nothing important.
And then, there was the phone call on Friday night from a long lost, well meaning cousin who now lives in Europe… sometimes family secrets and scandals and wounds don’t have to be revealed right when you are trying to deal with a big, recently inflicted gaping wound in your soul.
It was a bit too much to take in – I tried to talk about it but… some things you just have to keep to yourself, you can’t expect other people to understand and give you sympathy.
I was supposed to be back at work on Monday – I was at the doctor getting prescription sleeping pills. Yay!
Why is this affecting me so much? I have no idea.
He was my step dad for starters but, I suppose when I think of the creature who was the biological ‘dad,’ my step dad was such a massive improvement on the donor of half my genetic material.
He was good to me, mostly. He didn’t do the things my 50% genetic material donor did. Although he did try once but by then I had a voice and I could tell him to fuck off. He got the hint and never tried again.
So, my dad died…
I am so very tired. I’m on those sleeping pills now, for a day or two, to see if my body remembers that “Hey, you can sleep for longer than two and a half hours a night.”
Tomorrow I am back to work… And I don’t want to be. But I have to – bills to pay and the only way to pay them is to have a shitty job you really don’t enjoy. My dad’s death did teach me that life is too short, but when you are over 40, no one touches your CV with a ten foot barge pole, unless you have all those formal qualifications.
So, my dad died… and it seems to have much further reaching implications than I could have imagined.
PS: I really wanted to blog more, and start writing again, – I wanted to get a laptop so I could do just that – blog in peace, sitting cross legged on my bed, staring out the window and the massive tree in the backyard, listening to the birds. But, I’m not getting a laptop so, I might not be blogging for a while again.
Thanks for listening.
The Katt Box 