Sometimes, I can’t put my thoughts into words to explain how I feel, but I’m gonna really try with this one. I also can’t explain how the Universe works or why bad things happen. They just happen, and we’re left to figure it all out.
Thursday afternoon, my older brother phoned to let me know that my father had passed away from a combination of fighting cancer and pneumonia. He was 82.
I hadn’t seen my dad in person in a couple of years due to a variety of issues with myself. Mostly, the depression, self-loathing, and embarrassment about how I THINK other people view me, including my family and, of course, my father.
So, as I do with nearly everyone not Wifey or B, I protect myself from any potential hurtful comments or uncomfortable situations by avoiding them. I’m not proud of that way of thinking or living, and to be honest, it created an endless cycle of misery and anxiety.
Then, as I started feeling better about myself over the past couple of years, I continued to avoid people as a way of keeping that barrier up. Just like I used to skip school to avoid all the teasing and comments about my weight. An ill-fated plan, given that I avoided the comments, but at the cost of an education.
I often thought that I avoided talking to or seeing my dad because we were too different, and in many ways, we were. But sometimes, I also think it may have been because we were too much alike, each dealing with our own issues and traumas left over from our respective childhoods, and we didn’t know how to really talk to each other. (I had my weight and a sick mother; he had a sick wife, a hurtful, crazy-ass mom, and no father).
Despite whatever differences we had, both real and perceived, I will miss my father. The one that taught me how to laugh at farts, be silly, hunt night crawlers, and catch a bass. He also once told me the easiest way to find a girl was to make her laugh. Advice that I truly believe worked for me ’cause I sure as hell wasn’t bringing much else to the table.
Those were the thoughts I had as I sat in my chair after I hung up the phone with my brother.
Then, I phoned Wifey and B, who were making a whirlwind 2-day trip to PA to drop off Christmas gifts before the holiday.
We talked about it all and then got to figuring out the logistics for the three of us to get back for the service. The key points finding boarding for Lola and what to do with Jake (the dog) who can’t be boarded due to his problems walking and the need to be carried outside to do his business. Something I have been doing for over two years, thus further limiting my ability to be away from home.
We had several options, mostly involving me taking Jake and likely staying at my late father’s house. None of the options were perfect, but I was intent on continuing to care for Jake through this, no matter what.
Thursday night, I let Lola out, and then I took Jake out for his pee just after it started snowing. Then I tucked him into his bed and headed upstairs to get some sleep.
I woke up around 5, and I was surprised to have not heard Jake barking (he’s been getting up at 5 AM to go outside, which is a full hour earlier than I wake up). This has been the “new normal” since the time changed in November.
I got out of bed just before the alarm, got dressed, let Lola out of her crate, and then went to rouse Jake to take him out.
He was half out of his bed and uncharacteristically quiet as I took his blanket off to wake him.
Jake had passed during the night. He was 13.
In less than 24 hours, I’ve lost my father and the dog that I once referred to as “my soul mate,” much to Wifey’s chagrin. You really can’t make this fucking shit up.
I have a lot to process (writing this has actually helped, but I am not sure if actually sharing it will), then some crying to do, and a lot to figure out.
The Universe, man.
Later.