Candor

The life I have been dealt has not been the easiest thing, but it hasn't been as hard as many others'. From a privileged perspective, I feel cheated.

Almost eight and half years ago I lost my dad. No, I didn't lose him in the clothes section of Sears or something. He was taken from me by what I believed to be the Hand of God. Later in life I would still believe it was the Hand of God, but not the merciful God I formerly believed in. It became the hated Hand of God. I damned him in my mind and heart. I still believe there is no reason he was taken from me. It was a massive heart attack. Atherosclerosis, the doctors call it. Hardening of the arteries.

Tim Russert died today of a heart attack, but that's not what made me think of this.

The death of my father led me into a dark time in my life. For more than two years I was self-pitying at times. At others, I was a denier. I denied everything. The only thing I couldn't deny was the fact that my dad would never come home again. To this day it's hard for me to think about because I don't want to remember what I'm missing.

Two years after my dad died I began dating Alexa. Our sixth anniversary is tomorrow, but that's not why I'm writing this.

Alexa has done more for me than she can know. I never did drugs. I never drank alcohol. I was, however, seeing no end to the pain in my heart. I had no one to talk to. My family has never been much about hugging or emotional support. My family never turned a cold shoulder, either. We just don't operate the way many other people do.

Just over six years ago, I let my feelings about life, the unfairness and cruelty of it, out to Alexa. I can never make her realize just how important that night was for me. Not only did I grieve for the loss of my father, but I also grieved for my grandmother. She had passed the year before. Of course, it was my mother's mother.

My mom has not had an easy life. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1997. She survived. I can't imagine life without her. Without her, my dad would surely have died sooner from the stress of raising four kids. My mom has shaped the way I look at life. The older I get, the more I see how alike we are. We deal with things in the same way; that is to say we cope and move on.

However, it is impossible to simply "move on" after the death of a parent, especially when that parent passes while you are still dependent on parents.

I will never feel completely healed (if you can call it that). I will forever miss my dad. Not only am I missing him, but he's missing out on me. I'm sure he would be proud of me. I've graduated college and am engaged to a wonderful woman. My life is shaping out to be a success and I just wish he could share in it. I never knew him as a man; I only knew him as the mythical creature that all parents are to adolescent kids. I knew he felt pain. I knew he felt joy. I did not, however, ever think he would die. Death before that experience was something that happened to other people, not me. I wish I had asked my dad more questions. I wish I could get to know him for who he was; his thoughts on politics, baseball, life in general. I'll never know.

I feel I've been cheated.

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time - the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes - when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever - there comes another day, and another specifically missing part." - A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving