Today is one month since my dad passed away.
I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back asleep. But I couldn’t bear to look at the time and be able to know if it was before or after 4:42am, the time that he passed.
Today, I’ve been angry.
As time has passed, I wondered when I’d feel this way. I’ve spent a lot of time sad and I know that will continue. In the moments I felt angry before, I never screamed or yelled. When I thought it was obvious that he had days, not a month or weeks like I originally thought, the day after he passed, especially during his funeral service, I just cried and I physically shook and I just kept saying that I do not accept this.
His funeral service was the most angry I had been until today. When everyone else was talking, all I could think about was the path between the two buildings of the church. I knew most people there wouldn’t know about it. And all I wanted was to run out of the sanctuary and be able to fall on my knees, crying and screaming that I do not accept this. I do not accept any of this. I wanted to run and hide where no one would see me or be able to find me. I just wanted a second alone with no nurses, no family or friends, no one telling me what bills we owe, no one asking questions, no one asking how I am. I wanted a second to break down and not have to give anything to anyone. I wanted a second for it to be okay to not accept what I knew was reality, a reality that I had to accept.
Today, I still do not accept. I do not accept that I haven’t heard his voice in a month. I do not accept that he’s not coming to visit me. I do not accept that he won’t be there for the rest of my life, all the big adventures and decisions.
Today, I gave my first presentation this semester. And I do not accept that I won’t call him tonight or this weekend to tell him about it. I do not accept that I wasn’t able to call him beforehand and tell him what it was about, talk through the stats and why my question is important.
So today, I’m mad. I’m so mad that this has happened. I’m mad that my dad died. I’m mad that he was dismissed for months by his doctors. I’m mad that he had to face mortality so quickly. I’m mad that Zac had to lose his dad. I’m mad that my aunts had to lose their brother, my cousins their uncle, I’m mad my mom had to watch Zac and I lose our dad so quickly. I’m mad that the medical system doesn’t necessarily train compassion. I’m mad that I had to advocate so fiercely for my dad in his final days. I’m mad I had to ask for so much help. I’m mad that Zac and I lost our dad. I’m mad we had to figure things out so quickly, learn so much.
To summarize, today, I’m mad and I do not accept this reality. Not now, not yet.