Friday, May 17, 2013
It's been 15 months since I lost my dad and it still hits me like a truck every day. Every day at some point I remember him and feel his absence. It's harder for me I think because I worked for him and my family and I have continued on with his business. I'm here every day doing his job and mine, my brothers doing his field work and theirs, so we're constantly reminded. Constantly. I still get calls for him every day and I still have to tell people he's passed away. It's like a knife to my heart to have to tell people. Customers are the hardest, because they all have memories they share. It helps to hear how loved he was by the community and we appreciate the loyalty his customers have shown our family, but it can be tough. I've had marketers call and ask for him and tell me they're returning his call. Obviously they're lying. They get the brunt of my frustration on those days.
I don't have a desire to "feel better". If I went a day without crying for him, I'd feel so guilty. He was such a HUGE part of my life. If I somehow got to a point of not thinking about him every day, I worry that I'd forget things. How could I just go on with my life and act like everything is ok? It isn't ok. It never will be again and I find that comforting.
As the business grows and we enjoy success it's hard for me to enjoy it, when all he knew was struggle.
My niece was just a few months old when he passed away and we saw the fear and sadness in his eyes when he realized he'd never see her grow up. It broke his heart to pieces. He cried out her name a few times and we knew that we was grieving that future. It does things to you, watching someone die. Things that are difficult to process, even now. I have no idea how we survived those weeks.
I found my notes from his time in the hospital yesterday. Mostly meds and test results, but things he said, things he wanted us to do or know. And my plans to change. I made a list of foods that didn't belong in our lives anymore. I stuck to it for a while, but they've all re-appeared. I need the reminders and his memory to push me forward.