The Beginning of what I Hope becomes a Series...

It is about two months short of being a year from my dad being diagnosed, give or take a week or two. I cannot even begin to explain how hard it had been lately...knowing that a year ago right now, he was healthy. And also knowing that a year ago, everything was about to change. Now almost feels more difficult than when he died, because now I've...we've...had to live without him for 28 weeks. Yes I know how many weeks...because each week, each day actually that goes by I am constantly reminded not only of how much he did...but how much we so desperately still need him here today. But I've had to tell myself over and over again that he would not want me to be so upset...he wouldn't want me to cry and scream out in frustration and at first that took the, "I'm going to ignore everything" approach , which did absolutely nothing but turn me into a ticking time bomb. So, I've decided that instead of pushing everything away, instead of ignoring it and shoving it in the back of my mind and covering it with the business of life, I'm going to try to learn from this, from him. So I'm starting by writing this blogpost which hopefully becomes a series, of quotes and lessons that my dad taught me, that everyone, regardless of gender, age, place in life, needs to not only know, but also fully embrace. So here we go, number 1...

My dad loved C.S. Lewis for one...but I felt this was important and begs to bring up the fact that each day is a blessing. Yeah yeah I know corny and cheesy as hell, and something everyone says...but SERIOUSLY! Think about it...does that Wednesday in the middle of December in the 5th grade mean anything special to you today? I know for me it doesn't! I don't even know what I did! And all those days in between...were they all extraordinary? Do you remember each one? No, but everything since the 5th grade has changed drastically and that's what happens. While you're busy living life it changes. The people who were once there leave and new ones come into your life...the daily life becomes a monotonous routine that becomes just another blink in time. 

So here's the lesson...while you may not remember each and every day, try to use it. Try to create Memories...value that day for everything it has whether or not you remember it because tomorrow everything will change, and so on and so on...without you even realizing it. I challenge anyone reading this to try it. To try to create a memory, write it down, draw it, blog it, take a picture...just find something valuable in each day because before you know it everything will change. 

A Rough Patch...

The past week to two weeks I've hit what can only be explained as a rough patch...I've felt more overwhelmed, lost, depressed, and alone than I've allowed myself to be in a long time. But in feeling this way I realized how much all these feelings had been building up and how much I hid from those around me, especially my mom. I've also noticed how I let these feelings manifest themselves in my life...one example is the drama with my friends. I love them all to death but there is always pointless drama going on. I realized that I've let this all get to me too much and after talking with a friend who is not only older than me but is an amazing person...I realized that this drama is pointless and that I can't let it bother me...by letting it bother me I only create more drama and make myself feel worse. 

Another way I've noticed is that I'm controlling...very very controlling. I think I am because I hate that I really have no control over the big things in my life...but who does? So this is an apology to my friends for being too controlling, especially to someone specifically, you know who you are and I truly am sorry...

These two things aren't just the only things I've noticed but they are big things...things that tear me down even more than I already am. I'm trying so hard not to let them but it still happens. I can't even count how many times I've broken down because of how alone I've felt...I know I've got support coming out of my ears but the thing is...when you go through something like this you could have all the support in the world, but unless you've got that one person who is gone...you may as well not have anyone. I think that's something that a lot of my friends are starting to realize...maybe it is just me who feels like that but either way those around me are learning not to talk but to listen to me rant and cry and be frustrated with and hate life...because more than anything I want my Dad. I want him here...Everytime I'm doing something and I think..."Oh lemme go show Dad" or "I need to call/text Dad"...my heart drops the same way it did when we found out it was cancer...when we found out he wasn't going to beat it...when I got the call from my mom saying that it had happened. It's just as shocking, and heart breaking, and painful as when it happened if not even more...nothing they are going to say can help...just listening helps more than you think during this rough patch...

Something Different

I wanted to post about something a little different than I have in the past. I wanted to share some of my dreams, and how I am beginning to see how I can realize them. While I want to do this though, I don't want to share too much...but I figure this is my blog and I can write whatever I want. 

So as of the past week I've really started to look at my future and what I want out of it. I'm majoring in business right now, getting my associates degree at NWTC. I finally think that this is the right place for me and I am very happy with my class. I also decided to take photography starting next semester...and I've got a few ideas of what I would like to do with those. Now I know I want to be a mother at some point once I find the right guy and finish school and all that and I want to be able to be there all the time or as much as possible for my kids, I don't want them to have to be in daycare. So while I kinda mold some of my dreams around that, I don't let it hold me back. So at this point I'm thinking I could do a small photography business while staying at home...or maybe own a small boutique...I've also really liked the idea of being in a partnership with one of my friends and owning a juicing franchise! These are all just crazy ideas floating around in my head. 

Now I totally get if you all don't care and don't see a point to all this but I do. Ever since I started to look to the future and at doing things for MYSELF I've been so much happier. I've been able to really see a future for myself and my mom, felt a little more in control...and finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel kinda like my dad is helping me to realize all this..and to realize that I can push myself to achieve my dreams, and that they aren't stupid! That maybe one day I will live in a suburb of san diago or somewhere in South Carolina and own a juicing franchise with my friend Dakota and maybe I already know my husband and maybe this is all a lot closer than I think...but for once in my life this isn't a dream that I will put behind me. I want to chase these dreams and I want to achieve them and have more dreams! 

So I totally realize that this post is kinda all over the place and I apologize but I've felt more alive this past week than I have in awhile...and maybe that's because I'm realizing that while my dad is gone, life moves forward and I am still allowed to dream...and that my fate is not sealed. I love the quote, "some of your best days havnt even happened yet" because it's so true...I've got so much life to look forward to and dream about that it's hard not to start to feel happier. 

Dear Future Babies, This is who your "Pop" was...

So I'm taking a break from my boring business law and ethics homework, to do a post that I've been wanting to do for sometime now, but I havn't had the time, or the energy, or I just couldn't find the words. I guess there is no better time or place than when you are in the middle of notes for an exam due Monday and at Barnes and Noble. Heres to hoping I don't cry, and if I do, I don't freak out everyone around me! (Sorry in advance Matt).

Dear Future Babies,
     I wanted to write you (how ever many there are) a letter to tell you about your Pop, my Dad. I don't yet know when you will be born, whether your boys or girls, or what your names are. I don't know who your Dad or my husband is, where we live, what I do for a job, nothing; that's all 5, 10, 15 years down the road. What I do know is that right now, as I write this, it is 2014 and it is exactly 10 weeks and 1 day since your Pop has passed. Pop had melanoma, the most dangerous type of skin cancer, and it killed him in less than four months (so don't complain when I slather you in sunscreen...there's a reason!) and took away from me the strongest, kindest, most gentle and compassionate man I have known up to this point (sorry future hubby, while I may or may not know you now, it's the truth!). I'm going to try to write down as much as I can without turning into mush, because it is so important that you know at least a little about how important and amazing my Dad was.
  Your Pop, my Dad, was born on July 30th 1942. Your Great Grammy found out she was pregnant with him the day before pearl harbor was bombed and a couple days before our country entered WWII. It was a scary time, but that July little boy with dark curly hair and the happiest, most laid back personality was born.  Pop grew up, he had a brother, your great uncle Bob, never finished college but was successful non the less. He also served in the military during the vietnamn era! He later moved to Nebraska and then Green Bay WI, where he met your Nana (Grandma? Gram? What do you guys call her?) They met at First United Presbyterian Church of Depere, where your great grandparents, and later your Pop and Nana (and hopefully your dad and I!) were married. They got engaged after a short 6 weeks when Pop got back from visiting great grammy and granppy, when Nana made him a spaghetti dinner. Not even 6 months later, they married, on June 8th 1991. Pop said he couldn't wait any longer, because he had already waited his entire life for his soul mate. There is something to be said about that by the way. My parents had probably the most unique and loving relationship I have ever witnessed. They NEVER faught, and they never left the "honeymoon" stage, everyday they fell more in love with each other. They truly were the perfect couple and soul mates.
    After a couple years, I was born. On September 10th 1993, your Nana and Pop welcomed their only child into the world, Pop was so excited he didn't remember hearing if I was a boy or a girl. Months and years filled mostly with bliss followed...we had our good times and bad times, but through it all we had our love, and our family. That was a big thing, our family. Pop loved me and your Nana SO much. Nothing was ever gone without, and we could live worry free. He drove Nana to work everyday, walked me to school everyday. He put up with Annie and later Poppy...he helped with homework, was patient, and had the most amazing reading voice ever. I honestly cannot say enough about him. The Cubs were (and still better be!) very important, and although he never saw them win a world series (which I hope they've done by now!) he never lost faith in his cubbies. The packers were cool too, but sports always took a backseat to your Nana and I. We had dinner together almost every night, sometimes my friends joined us! They all too loved Pop, and even saw him as a second father. Pop was just one of the few people in the world who cared about everyone, who was kind to everyone and had the most accepting and loving heart. He was always there, even when he wasn't feeling the best...he was there 110%. When your Nana got sick, he was there. Even when she broke her ankle right after he was diagnosed with cancer, he took care of her completely until she could get around, and that was when he started to go downhill.
   I'm not going to go into the story of your Pop's cancer, because that's not who he was. It weakened him and took his life even before he took his final breath. But he was so brave through the entire thing. And even when he was too weak to stand...he still faught. But not for himself, for me and your Nana. He didn't want to leave us unless we were going to be okay. Once he realized this, he passed peacefully.
   A week after your Pop died, we had the funeral and there is something to be said about him just in the amount of people who showed up. We filled THREE LARGE ROOMS with people who KNEW him, and LOVED him...and they all said the same things, that he was so kind, his smile lit up the room, etc. etc. etc. (I'm starting to cry in the middle of barnes and noble kids, so take pity on me).
   I'm going to cut this short, and probably add to it or write another letter down the road, but know this. Your Pop loves each and every one of you. He is with you and me and your Dad and your Nana everyday. He is proud of each of you, and if he could be here with you I know he would be.
Love,
Mama
(ps. it's really weird signing something as a mother...these kids aren't even conceived yet (and probably won't be for a few years) and I love them and am heart broken because they won't get to meet their Pop)

One of the most painful things...

When people prepare you for or teach you about grief, they teach you the stages, what to expect, and how to help yourself get through it. What they fail to tell you about is what is quite possibly one of if not the most painful part about it all...at least for me. It's something no one can prepare you for but I know anyone who is going through the process will at one point, probably multiple times, experience this. It's horrible, almost as horrible as the moment your mom or sibling or grandparent or friend or dad leave you...it's having to remind yourself that they aren't here and realizing that it happened, that this isn't a horrible dream, and that they really are gone. I can't find the words to describe how truly painful it is. It seems so easy to describe but it's not...it's horrible and heart wrenching and breaks me every time it happens which at this point is daily multiple times. I don't think it will ever stop either. I just hate it...I hate that when I remind myself that my dad is gone, that it's not a dream, that it's real...that until I die I won't get to hear his voice, his laugh...I won't get to experience everything that a daughter should get to experience with her dad...I hate that a year ago this wasn't happening, that a year ago everything was "normal"...I hate that I have to remind myself that any of this happened at all. 

I'm not ungrateful, but I need you to know this.

I want to start by saying that I have amazing, caring, and supportive friends; without them I would not be doing as well as I am with everything. I am grateful for every single word of advice, every long talk, and every bit of love I get from them. Now in saying what I am about to say I am not angry, I am not ungrateful, I am not telling any one of you that you've said anything wrong whatsoever, what I'm saying is what I'm feeling and hoping it will help you all understand a bit more how I feel.
I have heard a few specific pieces of advice from multiple people, multiple times, ever since my Dad got sick...these include:

• "Pray. Hand it all to God"
• "Don't let your emotions get the best of you."
• "Don't be mad at God/God can handle it."

Now I'm not saying these aren't supportive to people who are grieving, what I am saying is they are not in the least bit helpful to me, and tend to make things hurt a bit more, mostly because I can't explain it all without bursting into tears, and because people don't understand, but I'll get to that later.

For the first and third things listed above, I just need to say, I AM mad at God, I am FURIOUS! I don't CARE if Satan gave him cancer, I don't CARE about any of that! God could have healed my Dad. God could have decided to not take my Dad. I am going to be angry at him for as long as I want. I know it will go away but to those who don't know what it's like to lose your father when you are 20...don't tell me otherwise. Just say you understand, that you know, and have that be that. I love the support, I don't want your opinion, I don't want to be told what to feel...Also, I don't want to pray to God. I don't want to talk to the one who took my Dad from me. For now, the only person I "pray" or talk to is my Dad and quite frankly that's good enough for me. 

Secondly, don't tell me not to let my emotions take over. Don't tell me not to be angry, to be anxious, to be upset...I am allowed to feel this way! Sure it may have been 71/2 weeks ago that my dad died but that is not that long! Everyone's lives went back to normal except for mine and my mom's after the funeral...ours is forever changed. We have to learn to live without a vital part of our lives, and if that includes, pain, anger, frustration...then so be it. 

And not that it is anyone's business, but incase you are thinking that I'm "faking" this (I have heard that) or that I am "seeking attention" or that I am just not "working hard enough" I have talked to a psychologist, I have talked to grief counselors, and I have talked to people who have gone through similar things and everything I am going through is COMPLETELY NORMAL. 

So what I guess what I am trying to say, is I wish more people understood. I know you all mean well, but it doesn't help when you tell me these things. Just let me be mad. Let me be upset. Let me do what I need to do to heal and if you can't handle it, then stay away. Because I am not going to hold back what I am feeling and what I need to do so you are happier or more comfortable. There is nothing enjoyable about grief, about losing your father at 20, about needing to care for your mother at that same age, about living a life that is so different than what you have ever lived before...it all sucks. So bare with me now and know that if I am emotional towrads you, that means that I trust you. Realize that I will get better, I won't always be like this. But for now, my heart hurts, my body hurts, my mind hurts, and I am missing my father more than ever.

My Heart Hurts

Ever since my dad was diagnosed with cancer, I've repeated that phrase to myself in my head, but never aloud, not being sure how else to describe the feelings associated with your world being (negatively) turned upside down. From the moment that I got a call from my dad, saying they found masses on his brain, I KNEW something was wrong, and the phrase immediatally entered my mind. Now, just over 5 months later, and 6 weeks and almost 6 days after my Dad's death, that phrase is still a common one in my mind.

In saying that "my heart hurts" I don't mean my physical heart that pumps blood and keeps me alive, I mean the one that holds my Dad in it. The heart that holds every memory I have with him. The heart that holds the longing feeling to hug him, talk to him, and just be with him. That is the heart that I'm talking about. That heart hurts more than I think it ever has in my entire life. That heart has been ripped out and stomped on by this asshole we know as metastic melanoma. That heart has been put through a blender filled with radiation and Yervoy (the treatments my dad received). And lastly, that heart was almost forever broken because I had to watch my dad die.
On the day that my dad died, I lost a part of my heart that I will never get back. I lost the part that found comfort in the arms of her father, the part that dreamed about my wedding day, about my children playing with their "Pop"...none of that will ever happen. All of those hopes, those dreams, they will not ever happen, and that is the part that kills me. Of course my children will know who their Pop was, they will know everything about him. They will know of his kindness, his passion for life, his faith in God and Jesus, his love and enduring patience for the Cubs and the Packers (mostly the Cubs) and most of all they will know how much their mother loved him. But what kills me is that I won't get to see my dad hold them, play with them, do everything he did with me as a child with his grandchildren. I won't get to watch him grow old with my mom, and watch the love they share continue to grow.
I think this bothers me so much because I know what my children will go through, and what they will not know. I've grown up without a grandfather, and I always wanted to know him, but obviously never had a connection with him like I did my other grandparents and it is absolutely devastating to me to know that my children will never have that connection to my dad.
And lastly, the part of my heart that has broken the most is the one who sees my mom in so much pain. I can't find the right words to help her and I know I never will. I cannot comfort her, I cannot help her, I just have to be there, and usually that isn't enough. I hate that she has to go through this, that she feels the way she does, that her heart is hurting too...
With time our hearts will heal, but always missing parts that were filled by my dad. I guess it just makes you that much grateful for what you do have in life, and know that nothing is permanant, and never to take one single day for granted.
I know I'm all over the place, and being super cheesy but that's how I'm feeling tonight and don't think I need to explain myself :) Hope everyone is having a good night!