Grief

Grief looks different for everyone, and I didn't truly understand that until going through it after losing my daddy. My sister went back to Chattanooga and back to work right after my dad's memorial service.  My mom has fallen weak to her alcoholism again. I took the week off of work to stay busy working through paperwork, finances, and to sort through my thoughts and feelings.  I have hit the anger stage of grief. It is ugly.

I'm mad at my dad for not taking it easy that day. He went to the grocery with my Nana, carried in her groceries, ran countless errands, came home and walked the dog. It was too much for his heart; you could never tell my dad not to give anything his all.  I'm mad at him for not leaving anything other than the information for his storage units.  I'm mad at him for not taking better care of himself. I'm mad that he thought his job was done since we were both out of college with jobs; the job doesn't stop there.  I'm mad at my dad's doctor. He called him 3 weeks ago to report chest pains, and he took too long to refer him to a cardiologist.  He died. In trying to get his death certificate and paperwork worked out, his doctor refused to sign anything because he had not physically seen my dad since November.  Not only that, he didn't have the decency to call and tell us that... we had to keep calling and getting the messages from his nurse who refused to take my number so he could call me back. She also told me she couldn't release any information to anyone other than the patient. Funny, right? I politely told her I would be doing anything I needed to to let his doctor know that he was responsible for my dad's death. Suddenly, she helped with any and everything I needed. I'm mad at my mom for not trying to be stronger, for not trying to keep the alcohol from consuming her.  I'm mad at my sister for blowing off my mom and leaving me to clean up the hurt feelings along with everything else.  I'm mad that my children won't ever get to meet my dad.  I never told him we were trying to get pregnant because I wanted it to be a surprise. Now, it doesn't matter. My children will never get to know him or spend any time with him. They will never know the man that would have been Gramps.  I'm angry at myself for not calling him Wednesday morning. Something told me to and I didn't. I got wrapped up in work and forgot.  I'm angry that life continues to go on as usual, as if nothing ever happened. That has been the hardest part yet.  I'm sure it will be worse when I return to work Tuesday, as I will get the same calls from the same disgruntled employees as usual. Life goes on. 

Bye Daddy

Wednesday, May 18, 2016, I lost my best friend.  It was a normal Wednesday. I got up, went to lunch and ran errands, and got a call from my Dad's phone at 4:46 PM. I answered just knowing he needed help resetting the internet or the printer. It was my mother. She said the two words I never thought I'd hear.  Daddy's Gone.  I started shaking, getting light headed, and knew she didn't just say that. I think I asked her what she meant by gone. and all she would say was "gone". She told me Jackson was on his way to come get me. I went to my supervisor and told her what had just happened. I told her I probably wouldn't be back for the week.  One of the girls helped me with my stuff and we went downstairs.  Jackson arrived at 5:25 and we headed to my parents' house. I called my mom and she said that they had just taken my dad to the Medical Examiner's office.  

I bawled the whole way there, I was given one instruction when my dad passed away. It was to log into his computer and find the document titled "Last Information". It was to contain all of the information my Dad left to "settle affairs".  I opened it to find information for his storage units.   That was it.   All my dad left was information for his storage units.   That evening brought the dreaded visit to my Nana to tell her her son was gone.  If I thought losing my daddy was hard, I can't imagine the pain of losing a child.  She took it just like I thought she would. She wanted answers we didn't have. She was in shock. We were all in shock.  Thursday brought new hurdles. I had to go to the bank to get into his lock box. When I was 12, he set me up as the only other accessible signer on his lock box. The deal was I would go to the bank, sign, receive a key and retrieve the information in the lock box.  I was informed, after I signed and was told how young my father was and how hard that must be (see also: words not to say to a grieving daughter), that the bank did not keep keys. If I had access to tear apart the bank I would have found it because I know 1,000% that there is a key there for the lock box. We went home and back three times with different sets of keys before we had them drill the box. The box contained nothing. It was empty. I just knew I'd find his will, wishes, something. Nothing. We had a meeting with the funeral home Thursday afternoon during which the funeral director itemized the items, slid the list to my mother and asked if tomorrow was okay for her to pay in full.  Strike 1 for this guy; who has $10,000 laying around to use with less than 24 hours notice?  Anyway, we made it all work, decided what we did and did not need, and that was that. 

Friday was also exhausting, as we had until Noon to bring pictures and a typed obituary to the funeral home.  I got up early to go to Mom's to find pictures. when I couldn't find the bucket with the books in them, I decided they had to be at the storage unit. So I grabbed the keys I was told would go to the units.  I went to the climate controlled unit and was unsuccessful at getting in any of the units. I called the office to make sure I had the right unit number, and I asked about cutting the lock. I was sobbing as the girl told me she couldn't do it without a death certificate.  She politely reminded me rent was due on the first and she wouldn't kick us out if we continued to pay for it. I sat in the floor and cried. and cried. and cried some more.  I banged my head against the door (because of course that would open it.) I couldn't worry about pictures anymore.  We had to be at the funeral home at noon. We found enough pictures to suffice. We had to decide if we wanted a plot or to use the brand new urn garden. What urn we wanted. What flowers, what engravings, what we want for my Nana and mother down the road. Y'all, these decisions each left their own knot in my throat.  After all, Dad's visitation was Saturday at 2:30. We had no time to waste. We informed John that Dad's favorite verse was Psalm 121, and he agreed to put that in the pamphlet. It did not make it in the pamphlet; strike 2. We gave him pictures and promised to e-mail the rest.  My sister e-mailed them at 3:00. At 6:19, John called to let us know nothing had come through and he was trying to go home. I tried to forward the e-mail, and it came back as undeliverable because the file was too large. So I e-mailed him and told him I would have to send them all separately. He made us feel like the biggest inconvenience. Strike 3. I wish I could say it got better.  Saturday, I laid in bed and cried a lot. Barry Manilow, Frankie Valli, and lots of others threw our own little cry fest in my bed.  It made me feel no better. We went to get my mom, went to get my Nana, and on the way my Nana called to tell me I should have known better than to try to go Nolensville Road on a Saturday. That made me angry and I snapped at her and asked just what she wanted me to do about it? I was on my way and that was all I could do.  We got there and my aunts, uncles, other grandmother, and my boss were all there.  I felt awful. They ushered us into the chapel and people followed. We spent hours hearing co-workers, teachers who had taken my Dad's workshops, his students, friends of his, mine, mom's, and Cameron's talk about how wonderful a man he was. I wish I could say that helped.  Sunday, Mom and I had to go pick up the flowers everyone sent that we didn't have space for Saturday.  We decided to only take the prayer plants for me, mom, Nana, and Cameron and donate everything else.  Jackson went on to church and I met him at his Mom's for lunch.  After that, I went to sit with Lou and her baby, and that helped so much. 

Monday brought anger. I'm angry with Dad, with the dog for making dad walk, with my Nana for needing my dad to run errands with her Wednesday, with myself for not calling him that day like I had, for some reason, felt I should do.  I am most angry with my Mother for not keeping her drinking in check so I can grieve and not have to babysit. I am 24 and without my Daddy... my best friend and confidante.  He was the most inspirational man I've ever met, and I miss him more than I can explain. He was the first to tell me when I was wrong and needed to apologize, even up to the fight I had with Jackson last week.  I need to call my Dad and tell him I lost my dad. and that is an unexplainable pain I would not wish on anyone.  He was the man that loved me first, and the first man I loved. He taught me about love and God and life.  If you're the praying kind, send some up for us. If you believe in energy, vibes, or whatever else, send some of those our way. 

A Day in the Life

My routine is pretty much the same every. single. day. Here's what a day in the life looks like for me.   5:30 the alarm goes off the first time 5:45 the alarm goes off the second time. If I have to wash my hair I get up to shower. 6:00 get out of bed, shower if I haven't already been up showering. 6:10 pack lunches. Jackson gets a turkey sandwich, fruit and veggies, and a gatorade. He packs the rest of his lunch when he gets up. I usually pack my salad, pretzel sticks, and vitamin water. 6:15 feed Feeny 6:20 dry and straighten my hair, put on makeup, brush my teeth, love on Feeny who is usually laying in the sink

6:40 get dressed 6:45 out the door 7:20-7:30 arrive at work (depending on traffic) 8:00 work work work "No sir, we can't work through those felonies" work work 12:00 lunch (sometimes I go to Target just to walk around) 1:00 work work "I'm sorry you missed your drug test. You knew you had 48 hours" work work work 
5:00 Let's blow this popsickle stand!  5:20 arrive at the gym 6:00-6:10 leave the gym If it's Monday, I call my Nana on the way home from the gym.  6:40 arrive at home, check the mail 6:50 Start dinner 7:15 Jackson gets home 7:30 we eat dinner 8:00-10:00 we usually play with Feeny, I clean a bit, Jackson does dishes, we relax and watch Harry Potter if it's Tuesday, and usually Big Bang or Modern Family or Kimmy Schmidt if it's another day of the week. 10:10 pack my gym bag for the next day 10:15 brush my teeth, take off my makeup, and get in bed.

Summer to-do's

Because of my spring hiatus, I didn't make a spring to-do list. We really stayed too busy to complete anything that would have gone on it other than "Get Allergies".  So here's to giving a go at a Summer To-Do list

String lights on our balcony

Take the new boat out on the lake

Spend lots of time outside

Plant Summery flowers

Go to the Renaissance Festival

Go to the Wilson County Fair

Swim, swim, swim in our apartment's new pool! 

Go camping

Tie Dye

Pick berries

Our Wild Weekend

Our weekend was busy to say the least, hence the weekend post on Tuesday.   Thursday night, I had to go get my nails done for the wedding. Jackson stayed home and held down the fort.  While I was gone, someone hit an AT&T pole and knocked out the phone and internet for our area.  So I couldn't get ahold of my parents and was panicking. I went from the nail salon to Kroger for poster board and markers for baseball signs, went to check on my parentals, and came home.  We decompressed, I finally ate a bowl of Cheerios for dinner, and we made baseball signs for the weekend games. 
Friday, I had my oldest best's rehearsal dinner for her wedding. We had a blast. We ate delicious Maggianos, and enjoyed the beautiful weather.  It was also where the seven things (that will go wrong on your wedding day) began. I don't believe in too many wedding superstitions, but that is one that never fails.  While rehearsing, we figured out quickly that wedges and heels were not going to work with the unsteady rocks we were standing on, so one of the bridesmaids decided to try on her dress with her sandals to make sure it wasn't too long.  No big deal until we tried to get her out of the dress. It was a cheap zipper that had gotten bent somehow, and it was looking as if she would have to sleep in it.  After 20 minutes of trying to unzip it, she grabbed the pocket knife and ripped the seam between the zipper and the dress. We secretly sent it home with the groom's mom to sew back.   Saturday, Jackson and I both had whirlwind days.  I got up early, pampered my bride, went for coffee, and headed to Lebanon to start our day.  Jackson, on the other hand, got up early, went to walk my parents' dog because they were in Chattanooga for my Sister's graduation from college.  He then went to pick up my medicine and headed out to the baseball game for our friends' awesome son. 

He then headed to the wedding where he proceeded to wink me down the aisle, and dance with me all night.  I danced with people I hadn't seen since high school and loved it all! I hope she loved her wedding, because it was so much fun.  

Sunday, we slept until 11AM, went to see my mom for Mother's Day, and spent the rest of the night relaxing. :) 

I hope your weekends were awesome!