Insomnia/Dad

It’s late. Or early. i can’t tell which because I never fell asleep. And I’ll probably get a few hours before it’s time to get up in the morning. but at the moment I feel incapable of going to sleep. There are too many things to be done. not even specific name-able things. Just things. Because you could be going around, loving life, then the next second you could have an malignant, inoperable brain tumor and have less than two months. it’s not fair.

recently, we actually just got back on Tuesday, my brother and I took a road trip up to Great Falls, Montana. about 16 hours the way we do it. no small feat. for most of my young life, Montana was the other woman. our father moved there when I was 10, (my brother 16 and my sister 14). said his disability money didn’t stretch far enough down here. that he hated what he called “Moron Valley” where his kids lived. i hated him for it then. And i’m still determined that when i have kids, i’ll never leave them. ever. but i don’t hate him anymore. it wasn’t even his death that made me stop hating him for it (that just solidified it.) It just sunk in that hating his choices and crying about it wouldn’t bring him back. And barely had i made my peace with this, or began to make my peace with it, when he was taken from me. It’s not right. He always got along better with adults. And the last birthday he saw of mine was my sixteenth. We were robbed, Dad. Our relationship would have been so much more, I’m sure of it. As sure as I am that now, we will never have more.

So I can’t sleep. Because i’m hurt, and i’m still grieving, every day it seems i’m grieving. And i’m angry. at myself for letting so much time go by. Angry for letting myself be angry for so long. For allowing myself to get stuck in anger. Anger wastes so much time. I was so stubborn. Why couldn’t i have just stopped being angry? Maybe if i had.. no he would have died anyway..probably. His old coffee mug sits on my desk

“Enjoy life….This is not a dress Rehearsal.”

the mantra alone is enough to make me want to sob and wake my parents up for a hug. he lived life like that, singing christmas songs at Mcdonald’s in July. the way he rubbed his hands together when he was excited or cold. i love the way he rubbed his hands together, so fast he could have started a fire i thought. it meant he was happy. when we were playing Monopoly and he was about to make us all go bankrupt. When he got a big roll on Ten Thousand. In Idylwild. But he’s not here now. he deserved so much more. thirty more years at least. why couldn’t you have stayed? it’s not fair. to any of us. though maybe to you though i can’t know for sure because no one knows for sure until they’re gone and then it’s too late.

so i can’t sleep. because i can’t forgive myself for my anger. for not calling him after he left after he surprised me for my birthday. because i was so stubbornly, stupidly angry that he laughed at the fact that i wanted to go to San Francisco for college. For culture i said. and he had laughed. and i had hugged him hard, crying already and walked away. i didn’t want him to see me cry. i never even looked back. i didn’t want to beg him to stay. and then the next thing i knew he was in L.a. for brain surgery.

So i’m here with his mug and his computer. and not him. and none of it’s fair. and i can’t even sleep. i’m exhausted but i’m mad at everything and refusing to sleep.

just come back. just show up and i won’t ask any questions. i’ll never be mad at you again. you can do whatever you want. i won’t be angry. just come back.

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