Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Post Secret
I feel that now is as good of a time as never to share with you my love for postsecret. Every Sunday I look at it religiously. I was just looking at the ones that I have saved...because I do save them to my computer and I thought about the evolution of myself this past year. The postsecrets that I have saved, I feel show how much I have changed from the beginning of the year. The ones that I have saved have evolved. I just found that really interesting. And of course, as the year winds down I am only reminded of my dad and how much I wish he were here right now to experience or listen to what has been going on with my life. Sometimes I wonder, would he really be proud of me? Then I tell myself, of course he would. Look at you! You are in college, in the most amazing maching band in the world, and you still have yet to fail a college course. You are doing some amazing things right now. I just need to keep reminding myself of this. Of course, my dad would always be proud of me, no matter what.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
November 2006
I guess this is just my week for apologies. I had a falling out with one of my roommates this week. Although this is a sucky reason for my mean-ness I want to link it to the fact that I want everything to go back to before November of 2006. It seems to me that things were a lot better then.
In November of 2006 I saw my dad alive for the last time. I remember it, too. He came to the house to pick up the last of his things and he was in the garage. I was thirsty so I went out there to grab a bottle of water and him and my mom were talking on the steps in our garage. I remember avoiding eye contact. I also remember the look in his eyes, I remember the will that was in his eyes. I know that he wanted me to acknowledge him, but I didn't. I just went about my business.
Following that November I talked to my dad just a handful of times. I remember one phone call where I yelled at him. I am pretty sure I told him that I never wanted to see him again. I remember him not talking back. I remember his breathing being hard. I remember him not being able to talk back because he was too weak to. I also remember me not caring. I remembering still yelling at him and yelling. I was probably screaming.
I remember the last time he called. It was a Friday night. I was getting ready to go talk to my mom and the phone rang. I answered it and I remembering being really short with my dad. He told me that my aunt Pam was going to take him to the doctor that Monday and they were going to see what was wrong with him. I remember him telling me that he loves me and I remember me telling him "whatever". That was the last thing I ever said to my dad, because he died that Monday.
Right now I wish that I had my best friend here to talk to. I wish that it was like in November when I could call her at all hours of the night and talk (between 10 and 11 of course). When I would see her before school would start and I would tell her about my night. I want her here with me now. She could give me advice that I would clearly not follow :) but she would be there for me to vent.
In November of 2006 I saw my dad alive for the last time. I remember it, too. He came to the house to pick up the last of his things and he was in the garage. I was thirsty so I went out there to grab a bottle of water and him and my mom were talking on the steps in our garage. I remember avoiding eye contact. I also remember the look in his eyes, I remember the will that was in his eyes. I know that he wanted me to acknowledge him, but I didn't. I just went about my business.
Following that November I talked to my dad just a handful of times. I remember one phone call where I yelled at him. I am pretty sure I told him that I never wanted to see him again. I remember him not talking back. I remember his breathing being hard. I remember him not being able to talk back because he was too weak to. I also remember me not caring. I remembering still yelling at him and yelling. I was probably screaming.
I remember the last time he called. It was a Friday night. I was getting ready to go talk to my mom and the phone rang. I answered it and I remembering being really short with my dad. He told me that my aunt Pam was going to take him to the doctor that Monday and they were going to see what was wrong with him. I remember him telling me that he loves me and I remember me telling him "whatever". That was the last thing I ever said to my dad, because he died that Monday.
Right now I wish that I had my best friend here to talk to. I wish that it was like in November when I could call her at all hours of the night and talk (between 10 and 11 of course). When I would see her before school would start and I would tell her about my night. I want her here with me now. She could give me advice that I would clearly not follow :) but she would be there for me to vent.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Begining
After being in college for a couple of months I realized that I had too many emotions to "journal" about and I was no good at "vlogging" so I decided to try my hand at blogging, instead. My best friend started her blog about a month ago and I have realized that I constantly am checking to see if she has written anything new. I think that her blog has helped me to realize that although we are going to different colleges we will always be the same person, essentially. Yes, she is changing, and I am too, but at the core we will always react the same way to things that we have in the past.
This past week was fall break and it was amazing to have time off. I really needed it. Since moving here I have had so many emotions running through me that it is mentally draining. I often times catch myself wondering about my dad. I often think to myself, what would he say if he could see me now? Would he be proud? There is really never a day that goes by when someone congratulates me on making the marching band which is shortly followed by "your dad would be so proud of you right now". But I often wonder, would he? If he were alive would I have gone to a different college? Would I have struggled so much emotionally senior year that I would have decided to go somewhere else? If he hadn't been so sick would we have visited more colleges than the four? Would he have encouraged me to apply to more than just my one "dream school"? These questions always run through my head and they always seem endless. If my questions about my dad's proud-ness would subside I often question my brother, would he be okay? Would he be overly handicapped? Would he be able to walk? Would we get along? Would my family dynamics be different? Would I be able to go to the college I am going to if he were still alive?
My mind is almost a bottemless pit of worry, worry of what could have happened, what did happen, what is happening, and what is going to happen. I try to push them aside and live for the moment, but there are times that I want to sit and try and answer these questions and almost wallow in self pity of things that could have been or should have been.
I guess that at the core of all these questions is just my one wish. For my dad to be here now. I wanted him so badly to see me march at state for the last time my senior year. I wanted him to watch me walk at commencement. I wanted him to be there at my graduation party making people laugh, talking with old friends, and smiling with pride for what I have become. I wanted my dad to be there when I got my acceptance letter to college. To be there when I moved in to my dorm. I wanted him to be here, not there, for when I called and told him that I made it into the Notre Dame marching band. I wanted to be able to tell him that I would be able to, in a way, fufill his dream of having a child go to Notre Dame. I would be one of the select few to get to go out that tunnel on game day and have people scream for me.
Not that these thoughts had ever totally disappated from my mind, but now that I am essentially on my own I think about them more and they seem to take up more of my time.
This past week was fall break and it was amazing to have time off. I really needed it. Since moving here I have had so many emotions running through me that it is mentally draining. I often times catch myself wondering about my dad. I often think to myself, what would he say if he could see me now? Would he be proud? There is really never a day that goes by when someone congratulates me on making the marching band which is shortly followed by "your dad would be so proud of you right now". But I often wonder, would he? If he were alive would I have gone to a different college? Would I have struggled so much emotionally senior year that I would have decided to go somewhere else? If he hadn't been so sick would we have visited more colleges than the four? Would he have encouraged me to apply to more than just my one "dream school"? These questions always run through my head and they always seem endless. If my questions about my dad's proud-ness would subside I often question my brother, would he be okay? Would he be overly handicapped? Would he be able to walk? Would we get along? Would my family dynamics be different? Would I be able to go to the college I am going to if he were still alive?
My mind is almost a bottemless pit of worry, worry of what could have happened, what did happen, what is happening, and what is going to happen. I try to push them aside and live for the moment, but there are times that I want to sit and try and answer these questions and almost wallow in self pity of things that could have been or should have been.
I guess that at the core of all these questions is just my one wish. For my dad to be here now. I wanted him so badly to see me march at state for the last time my senior year. I wanted him to watch me walk at commencement. I wanted him to be there at my graduation party making people laugh, talking with old friends, and smiling with pride for what I have become. I wanted my dad to be there when I got my acceptance letter to college. To be there when I moved in to my dorm. I wanted him to be here, not there, for when I called and told him that I made it into the Notre Dame marching band. I wanted to be able to tell him that I would be able to, in a way, fufill his dream of having a child go to Notre Dame. I would be one of the select few to get to go out that tunnel on game day and have people scream for me.
Not that these thoughts had ever totally disappated from my mind, but now that I am essentially on my own I think about them more and they seem to take up more of my time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)