"I urge you to not take counsel of your fears. I hope you will not say, 'I'm not smart enough to study chemical engineering; hence, I'll study something less strenuous.' 'I can't apply myself sufficiently well to study this difficult subject or in this comprehensive field; hence, I'll choose the easier way.'I plead with you to choose the hard way and tax your talents. Our Heavenly Father will make you equal to your tasks. If one should stumble, if one should take a course and get less than the 'A' grade desired, I hope such a one will not let it become a discouraging thing to him. I hope that he will rise and try again."
I am mad that I have been robbed of someone that can't be replaced. I am angry that I have to wait a lifetime to be with him again.
I am angry cause I didn't get to say goodbye, I am angry that he didn't tell me goodbye.
I am angry that I don't remember the last conversation we had. The last conversation that I do remember having was a few days before, I think it was his birthday. He had just went to see Passion of the Christ. He didn't like the movie. "It was difficult to watch". We talked about the atonement. He said he missed me and he loved me. That is the last conversation I remember vividly.
I didn't get to talk to him that last Saturday. I was working all day. He called once while I was at work and didn't leave a message. I wish he would have.
I am angry at Kristie for the way she has chosen to handle or rather not handle things since he left. I am angry that it is "too painful for her".
I am angry that we spent that last few years so far apart.
I am angry because I felt cheated cause he missed my volleyball games, he didn't get to know my friends in high school or dance the "father daughter dance" at my junior prom.
I won't ever get a father daughter dance.
But I am really angry about the things that he is going to miss out on.
I am angry that I won't get to introduce him to the man I marry. I am angry that he won't be there to threaten him when he asks me to be his wife.
I am angry that I won't get to call him when I find out I am pregnant with my first child. I won't get to see he hold my babies and look at their toes.
I am angry that I won't get to watch him get old. That he didn't get to live a full life and that was his choice. I am angry that he was sick, and couldn't control his actions.
I hate that this "happened for a reason" and that "this is the way things were suppose to end up".
I am angry that he loved us enough much to leave us.
I am angry because anger is part of the "process" Why is this the first time in 5 years that I have felt this kind of anger?
I hate that I can't have all the answers now.
I have no problem talking about my dad to others, but I am angry that it is so painful to talk about him to the ones that share the pain. I am angry that the only way I feel I can release all this anger right now is on the World Wide Web.
I am angry that love can cause so much pain. I am angry that this pain is real.
It's been 5 years. Some days it feels like yesterday Other days it feels like forever.
I remember that day all too clearly:
I was working at the Art Center still and we had a huge event that night. We had made 600 ham, turkey and roast beef sandwiches, 600 eclairs and 600 slices of cheesecake topped with cherries, raspberries, and blueberries. I was excited for this reception. The flowers were beautiful, and so was the grooms little brother.
I had just been on break with dani, kelsey, and maybe 2 other girls whose names I have forgotten. I was wearing the "scream" tie. It matched my eyeshadow.
Carol and Steve were getting ready to leave. They were nervous that there wasn't enough food.
I looked at my phone and it was 7:24. Reception was to start in 6 minutes and people were already lining up. Instantly my stomach was in knots and I felt queasy and my head was spinning. Carol knew right away I wasn't feeling well and told me to go home.
I had been fine all day and wasn't sure why I suddenly felt so horrible. I hesitated to leave knowing the crowd that would be flooding the doors that night. I didn't want to leave them shorthanded, but Carol insisted. That is so not like Carol. I helped them get everything out and ready grabbed my stuff and left.
I decided to drive to Michelle's until I felt a little better. I text Jen and Kelly to see what they were up to. They were going to see "Secret Window" with Johnny Depp. I agreed to go. They said they would come meet me at Michelle's. Katie had just gotten home from St. George so I gave her a call. She answered the phone and I knew immediately something was up. I asked her what was wrong and she insisted nothing was wrong, but I knew that wasn't true. She kept asking when I was coming home. I told her to tell me what was wrong. She asked where I was and if I was alone. Steph and her friend were there. She said she would tell me when I got home but I insisted she tell me right now. She choked up and barely got the words out of her mouth.
My heart sunk deep into my chest and I lost it. I dropped the phone on the kitchen floor and fell to my knees. I picked the phone up and handed it to Steph. I don't know what Katie told her. I could tell Steph and Aubrey were horrified. I got up and started wondering around. I didn't know what to do. I saw headlights pull into the driveway. I went outside and they saw I wasn't okay. Jen got out of the car and I fell to the ground. She just held me. I was so glad she was there. She understood the feelings I was having better than anyone I knew. They got me into their car and we headed to our apartment in Orem to be with Katie.
I sat with Katie while she made some other hard phone calls. Katie was so strong. She was there to comfort me and make me feel better when she was feeling the same things. She helped me find reasons to smile. I am so glad we were able to be together that night. The rest of the night and the many days that followed are a blur. It felt like a really long, bad dream and we were just waiting for it to end. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days.
Before that day I didn't know what it felt like to miss someone. I knew what it felt like to lose someone. I left all my friends just 4 years before that. I had grand parents that had passed on, but I had never felt a pain like that.
Every time March 13th comes around, I feel like "this year the pain will lessen".
But it doesn't.
Instead, I am overwhelmed by the things he is missing out on. Things that I won't get to share with him, physically. I know he is still here with me all the time, but it's not the same.
It will never be the same.
I try to recall all the memories. But so many of them don't come back to me. I wish I had payed more attention. I wished I had written in a journal. I wish I hadn't been so wrapped up in my life to care more about my family and remember the small things.
But I have lots of great memories, and everyday I see little reminders of him everywhere I go. We have lots of pictures that remind me.
I think of you everyday dad, your big gentle hands, and the way you smelled. I think of your laugh and how your eyes twinkled when you'd smile. I think of your bald head and the way it dripped with sweat. I think of the songs you'd sing as you'd cook holey-eggs while dancing in the kitchen. The way you'd shake your glass of ice when you needed more water. I think of you tying your shoes with your foot propped on your knee so the knot was always to the side. I think of the way you loved to help people. The way I would fall asleep in your arms nearly every night until I was at least 12. You never passed a vehicle on the side of the road without stopping. You always helped old women to their car when their legs weren't strong enough to carry them. You held almost every baby in sight. And always made friends with the little kids sitting next to us in a restaurant. You took pride in going over and cutting Grandma's toenails. I don't think one night went by, ever, without calling to tell your parents goodnight.
I miss you more than you know and I am grateful for the example that you were. So much of who I am is because of you.
I love you forever, I like you for always, As long as I'm living my hero you'll be.
It's March. March is a hard month. It is a good month but a hard month.
This is the month that I am ever so grateful for sisters. They are always there when it really counts.
To share the laughter, the pain, the tears, the memories, the frustration, the love, and the silence of unanswered questions.
They are my strength, my support, and my best friends. They know me better than I know myself. I don't have to explain things to them. I don't ever have to ask them, they just know. I am grateful I don't have to experience March on my own.
She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. ~Barbara Alpert