Vent

Loss

My dad died two weeks ago. Two weeks. In these two weeks, I've cried more than I've ever cried before. One night I cried for a whole hour in the middle of the night. That ugly kind of crying where your face is covered in tears and snot and your skin gets all red and blotchy. That kind of crying.

I didn't have the best relationship with my dad. My sisters and our moms and my brother had even worse relationships with him. I got the better years in his life. The years where he was sober. Where he was really trying to better himself and help those around him. Sure, he struggled occasionally and we would fight fairly often, but he would always try to make things better and make it up.

Losing him has made me think about all the things he's going to miss out on, and all the things he already missed out on. He missed my 8th grade graduation and my performances during middle school, but this school year he made it to every single one.  But I'm only 15. There are so many more occasions he's going to miss. Every future concert and showcase and musical that I'm in- he won't see. My high school graduation- he won't see. My college graduation- he won't see. If I get married, he won't be able to walk me down the aisle, or even attend. If I have children, he'll never get to meet them. 

I used to see him every other weekend and we would have dinner together once a week. Now, that won't happen. My whole life has completely changed and I don't know what to do. 

He wasn't supposed to die. Not this year. Not next year. He was supposed to attend my graduations and performances and see me every week and make his terrible dad jokes and embarrass me constantly. He was supposed to take me places, teach me things, be there when I needed him. 

He had just gotten engaged. He was supposed to have a long and joyous life. He wasn't supposed to have a heart attack and drown. He was supposed to be here. But he won't.