The Diary of a Grieving Daughter

it’s 1 am, I should be sleeping, but I’m sitting here instead. I haven’t updated this blog in a long time. much has gone on since the last time. so much to update on, to remember, but I’ll start with now.

I still miss my dad allot, that is normal I’m told, it never goes away. I would hope not…

Gosh, I don’t even know where to start, there are days I don’t think about him at all, and there are days like today when something reminds me and I get very sad and grieve all over again.

It’s still not real sometimes. I was just laying in bed and I was thinking how can it be real, how can my dad be dead? He should be well and at home with my mom, in the basement watching TV, or at a bowling alley bowling or watching a horse race, or playing cards. dead? no, it can’t be real. then it sets in that it is real. it had been a few months since I had a real hard cry. 

I took my kids bowling today. I hadn’t been in a bowling alley in quite some time. I was with some other friends and their kids. And I was fine. I was just watching as I can no longer bowl because of my knees, but I was fine and being in a bowling alley seemed fine, I didn’t really think twice about it. until one of the people I was with yelled out to his daughter where to hit a shot. Then the time warp began. I used to be quite the youth bowler, well I was a young teenager I guess, I had bowled since I was a little kid, my dad enrolled my in a youth bowling league, and I got to be pretty good, had a “coach” and everything, we would participate in provincial and national tournaments. My dad was always there, proud of me. Anyways he would always stand in the back and if I didn’t know where to hit shot to get a spare I would turn around and he’d tell me where to hit it. “Hit the wood high, Tina, just above the red band” I could remember it like it was yesterday, like it was still today. that’s when it seems so unreal. I feel like I could turn around right now and he’d be there telling me where to hit the wood.

A few years ago….umm 2 or 3 or somewhere in the middle, I went to counselling to try to figure out some stuff about myself…anyways my counsellor was terrific, helped me undiscover allot about myself, allot of things I needed to work through. One area that came up of course was my upbringing…not going to go into all of it right here and now, but one of things he (counselor) talked about was that some events that happened in my life were my dad’s fault. Something about me not getting enough attention or not being made to feel special and girl need tat. I argued that my dad spent allot of time with me and took me everywhere he went. He argued back saying “where did he take you that you wanted to go?” that it was about what he wanted to do and he just brought me along. At the time I said “ooh yeah, your right” But do you know what? He was not right. no, no he wasn’t. Wanna know why, well I’ll tell you why. Because…those things were what I wanted to do. they were pretty much all I knew. I laid in bed tonight thinking about that, then I thought, well what exactly was it that I wanted to do that he didn’t take me to do? I couldn’t think of anything, not one single thing. I wanted to bowl, and not only did he just take me to the bowling alley when he was bowling, he followed and put much much time into my bowling career (I know that sounds funny, but we took our bowling quite seriously) He took me to practice, all around Atlantic Canada to tournaments, he was my coach, my cheerleader, many many many hours. that’s not selfish, that’s not selfish at all. Same with the horse track. I loved horses, I still do, I wanted to go, I wanted to learn, I helped, I did everything to take care of our horses. I got old enough that I went on my own. Not selfish at all. And when he was just home for a night, in the basement, watching TV, I’d go down (this when I was a little kid, well elementry schoolish) and I would just hang out down there with him, sit on the floor and play my barbies, or curl up on the couch with him. He never told me to go upstairs, never told me he wanted quiet or alone time. He literally took me everywhere. How many parents do that? I’m a parent and I don’t take my kids everywhere, to hobbies or to hang out with my friend, no, I need my alone time I claim, need me time. He didn’t take “me” time, he took me everywhere. How is that selfish? that’s what I want to know. So my counselor was wrong wrong wrong. My dad was not selfish!!!

I never got to tell him that he was the best dad ever, because I’m only realizing it now. Why did I have to realize it after he was already gone? that’s not fair. Maybe he never knew how good of a job he did, maybe he didn’t know how much I appreciated him, or how special he was to me. I didn’t get to tell him.

At the funeral home, at the visitation, people I didn’t even know would come up to me and tel me how much my Dad would talk about me. I was the apple of his eye, they said.

I just want him to still be here so I can tell him what a good job he did as a dad. And even though he wasn’t there all the time because of his job, when he was there, he was an amazing father, so patient, never got annoyed with me or tired of having me around every waking minute…..I just want him to know that.

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. It will never be fair.

I thought I was doing ok with it all. I was processing all my feelings, I was grieving “well”. I don’t think I am ok. ever since my dad passed away I’ve held on to my own children tighter, and now it’s like I’m afraid to let them grow up and stuff. it sounds silly but it’s real in my head. Regan started a new daycare this week, and she starts kindergarten next week, well this coming week, and I’m beside myself. Anxiety attacks and all. I thought I was going to have a breakdown on Monday, I couldn’t function, I didn’t even know my own phone number. I couldn’t do anything and I had so much pressure in my head. it was scary. I got through it, but just the thought of her going off to school next week has me in absolute panic. I don’t even know what I’m scared of. I can’t really describe it. So I went to the doctor, and he put me on medication. I didn’t want to go on medication. But I know it’s true, I need it. I think I’m…depressed…and the anxiety attacks have been getting worse over the summer…not to mention the paranoia. what’s wrong with me? And work…I’m torn and tormented. I love my job, and I’m committed to it and my career but my hours right now mean that I won’t see Regan at all, so I’m thinking of going to a night shift…*sigh* I don’t want to work nights, been there done that, don’t want the T-Shirt…I don’t want to do it, but it means I’d be home after school….how can I not be here after school? I have to work Regan’s first day of school, I won’t be here after school. What kind of mother isn’t there for her child’s fist day of school? I’m torn and tormented.