any second now...

Have you ever had one of those revellations that something just isn't going to happen? Have you ever had hope for something...and think "this could happen...it really could" and then realize that maybe not?

Yeah, I had one of those today.

I visited my father's grave today...and it hit me really hard today. I sobbed until my eyes were swollen.

It's very difficult to come to grips with the reality of it all. It's not easy at all. There is nothing harder than this. I have never missed anyone so much in my life. I have never grieved as deeply as I am at this very moment.

It never hits home until I step onto the grass and walk down the hill to the spot where my father now lies. It's so final.

I'm going to LA this weekend to hang out with one of my friends. It should be a good weekend because it will be nice to just hang out.

Next week is my birthday, and I'm going to Disneyland with another friend. We're going the Friday before my actual birthday, so it will be a lot of fun.

But the rest of that weekend will be a little bit harder because it will be my first birthday, my mom's first anniversary and first mother's day without my father.

It's so strange how hard firsts always are...especially when it has to do with something so...last...

My mom shut off my dad's cell phone.

I called my dad's cell phone, just to hear his voice, and the automated "We're sorry, but you have reached a number that is no longer in service..." came on.

I felt like the rug was pulled out from under me because I was expecting to hear "This is Roger, sorry I missed your call. Please leave a short message and I will call you back, thank you..." But it wasn't there.

I looked for my cell phone and was going to erase my dad's number from my directory...but I couldn't do it.

I was SO bothered by it yesterday. I cried all the way home. I couldn't stop crying until I got to my exit from the freeway. I had to stop because I was picking up my mom to go to dinner.

Later that night, I asked her about Dad's phone. She said that she had to turn it off because no one was using it. She never gathered enough courage to listen to the message because he sounded so alive, like he could walk through the front door at any moment.

This song makes me cry, everytime I hear it...

My Immortal
Evenescence

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have

All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
And though your still with me
I've been alone all along

I know it's about a long lost lover, but it could apply to someone who has passed away, too. To me, it's about loss. It's haunting and just recalls a lot of deep feelings when I hear the piano.

My mom and I went to the councelor last night.

It's safe to say that my mom is just over sensitive, and we are stressed as a family. A lot of the problems are a result of this situation we are in, and there's no way around it. If something bothers us, we have to find a way to get through it...even if we have to avoid certain subjects.

My mom wants to "find out" what "really happened" during my father's surgery. I don't know why, but I feel so weird about bringing that all up again. I'm not sure why we have to rehash that all again.

My father's death seems like a lifetime away. I feel like I've lived years between now and March 1. I feel like if we rehash his death, it's like we can't leave the past.

I just realized how cold that sounds...but my goal is to work on trying to cope with my father's death. I feel like drudging up things like what failed during his surgery is just going to allow us to wallow in what could have been instead of what is right now.

To me, doing all of this is not going to bring my dad back. Why go through all that trouble when nothing is going to happen? It's not going to give me anymore peace of mind because my father will remain dead, even after we find out what went wrong. It's not like it's a reversible situation. It's not like once we find out that the surgeons did something wrong, that my dad will suddenly rise from his grave and be alive again.

Nothing that we do to "avenge" my father's death will bring him back. No amount of fighting the system will bring him back home to where he's sitting in front of the TV and I walk in and say hi to him like I have for my entire life.

Nothing is going to bring my father back. Nothing. And we have to move on and deal with it. We have beautiful memories, pictures and stories to share. That surgery that took him away was the worst possible moment in my entire life, and I don't want to go back there.

I want to be as far from there as I possibly can.

I had the strangest dream yesterday.

I dreamt that my mom, sister and I were all at this church or something. All I remember is that it was theater like seating, but we weren't at a movie or play. My mom was angry with us for some reason. I looked up at our seats and I see that there are 4 seats with jackets or something on the backs of the seats. I see that from where I'm looking up at the seats, there's an empty seat next to my mom on her right (my left as I'm looking up), and there are 2 seats to her left for me and my sister.

I walk up to the seats and sit in front of the one that my mom has saved and shake my head. I look at my mom, and she isn't looking at me. I say to her "Mom, why are you doing this?" and she leaves. I then talk to the empty seat and ask dad why he hasn't let us go yet, and my head is down. When I look up, he's there. He said "I'm not ready, not yet..."

I woke up and sobbed.

I'm not sure what that means. I'm not sure if that's supposed to be one of those transversed dreams where I'm actually not the one who's ready to let go.

My sister and I went out to lunch yesterday. Everytime we get together, we finally get the chance to talk about everything that's on our minds about Dad. It starts off so heavy, but we need it. My mom was away for the weekend, and she needed that, too.

It fluctuates between easy and difficult, and right now it's difficult.

I'm going to see the councelor tonight. I told my mom and sister about it, and my mom acutally volunteered to go. I thought that was a remarkable breakthrough.

Baby steps.

I cannot stand to feel like I'm out of control. Even when I'm intoxicated, I hate that feeling. I've been there, and I don't like it. I like being buzzed, but I don't like being out of control.

I am feeling out of control. I don't feel crazed...I just feel like things are falling out of my grasp. I feel like things around me don't make sense.

My mother gets angry at me when I'm "too logical." She thinks that I'm talking down to her. What it is, is that I feel like she has her own way of assessing things that don't fall within the guidelines of common sense. Even before my father passed away, she looked at things a little differently. Sometimes we see eye to eye, but when we're in an argument or debate, then she skews the situation to fit her fight, and it is ALWAYS contradictory to logic.

I love my mom. I love her dearly. I just think that she needs to take something for this emotional rollercoaster that she sends us on every week. Every week it's SOMETHING. Every week, there is a crisis.

I visited my dad's grave today (my sister and I went on also went on Sunday), and I had no words. I just sat there and sobbed. I couldn't put into words what I was feeling, or what I needed.

My dad was the glue that held my mother together. I can see that so clearly now. Hence, my mother is unravelling. It's difficult to watch, and even moreso to be the receiving end of it.

I need a nap.

I want to disappear. Not forever...but for a week. I would really like to be somewhere else other than here.

A couple of things I learned yesterday:

Lesson 1. Not everyone learns the same life lessons from the same life experience.

I'm typing and re-typing this part of my blog because I have so many mixed feelings about what's going on. I'm angry about an argument that I had with my family last night...mostly with my mom. She doesn't seem to get that her emotions are too much for the immediate family. We are having a difficult time dealing, and she likes to pin the whole fucking thing on ME.

I have learned to let go. I can't remember the things I was pissed about before my father died. I remember the events, but I can't recall the feelings because they suddenly fell away. All of the insignificant incidents that happened just don't matter anymore.

Why can't she see that? My mother thinks that everything that's happening is happening to HER ONLY. She says things like she doesn't want to be alive anymore, and she doesn't think about what it means to me and my sister. When she gets pissed enough, she grabs her purse and keys to the car like she's fucking going somewhere...and I have NO IDEA WHY.

I'm not a fucking professional. I'm her FUCKING DAUGHTER. I want us to go to councelling, but she says she doesn't need one.

She needs one. WE need one.

Lesson 2. Honesty is not always the best policy.

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, the policy of truth is not always the best one. Sometimes one doesn't need to delve deeper into the subject. Sometimes the phrase "leave well enough alone" is true.


"Sometimes, the truth is harder than the pain inside..."

It is such a beautiful day. As I was walking back from my pedicure during lunch, I thought of my dad. I imagined on a day like today, he would come home from work and immediately change into his scrubby clothes, so that he could work in his garden. He would be happy because he could work on it until the later evening hours.

It's so strange what triggers thoughts of my dad. I was thinking before that, how I was thankful for the free bottle of nail polish the manicurist gave me after my pedicure (and yes, it IS pink...hee hee). Then when I walked back across the bridge from the mall to my office building, all the trees and flowers reminded me about the pretty orchids in our yard...which then reminded me of my father.

I am thankful for wonderful ways to associate the memories of my father.

I was talking on the phone to a friend the other day, and she said that she started a blog where she typed thank yous. It could be a thank you to anyone or anything. I thought that was a great idea.

There are days in which we all get caught up in the hustle and bustle and forget to say a thanks for what we have. I'm sure pessimists out there will dismiss this as a cheesy attempt at being overly positive, but how many of us really do it? How many of us really sit down and say, "wow...I'm so grateful for: (fill in blank)"? I know I don't. Well, I don't want to say that I don't...but I haven't in awhile. I haven't really thought about it until she brought it up.

So here are a few things that I'm thankful for:

My spirituality

I have a strong sense of God and His role in my life. I pray every night, and I know my Lord will guide me in right paths. I understand that He would not burden me unnecessarily, and I derive strength from Him.

My family

I am thankful for the strong foundation my mother and father have built for us. By foundation, I mean moral as well as financial and spiritual as well as educational. My parents also reminded us that as long as you work hard to maintain a good foundation, then the recreational part of life that is to be enjoyed in abundance will follow easily and naturally. My mother has been the perfect nurturer. Despite our many disagreements, I wouldn't be who I am without her. The same applies to my father, and although my father is no longer with us physicially, his wisdom lives in us eternally.

I have to add a special section for my sister. She is the one friend that I can look at in a glance, and speak volumes without words. I can cry with her, get angry at her and with her, and laugh at and with her. She is my heart.

Then there is my extended family consisting of relatives who have really shined in this time of need. I was already feeling a sense of closeness to them as I got older, but now I feel the strength that blood ties really have.

My friends

My friends complete the circle of who I am. You would think that I would say that about a husband or boyfriend, but I have neither. Even though that is the case at the moment, whoever I do end up with will also be a part of this category.

My friends encourage me, or even discourage me when the moment calls for it. They've seen me at my best and worst. My friends have so many similarities, but come from so many different backgrounds that I get a good feel for their different opinions and perspectives. They allow me to escape, but ground me when appropriate. They are a part of me, and I hope they feel the same about me.

Ok, that's what I can think of right now. I know there is tons more I'm thankful for, and maybe I'll take note from my friend and think of a little bit each day...

I need to take a deep breath.

I need to relax.

Taxes.

I actually did my own taxes last night! Ok, I didn't do them quite by myself...my dear friend who helped me with the oil change, helped me with my taxes, too (what a great guy, huh?).

I filed for an extension on the State one, but I guess that only applies if you don't owe anything (which I DO).

More brownie points towards my quest for independence.

I feel good again. I feel like I can do anything.

(Edited to add that they're off to the post office! Postmarked today...)

Who in the hell said this was supposed to fucking get easier?

It's not. That was just as difficult as the first day someone said "Your father is brain dead, and there is no way to save him."

God, this is so hard. This is so very hard. I can't get over how hard this is.

I visited my dad's grave today, and I can't believe how much I miss him. I can't believe that I'm visiting his grave and not visiting him so that we can have lunch together.

Instead, I spend the occasional lunch hour sobbing.

Today, I was angry...angry at the grass, angry at the mortuary, angry at the world for taking my dad away at age 63.

I need to take a boxing class to get all this excess energy out.

a·lone

adj.
Being apart from others; solitary.
Being without anyone or anything else; only.
Considered separately from all others of the same class.
Being without equal; unique.

adv.
Without others: sang alone while the choir listened.
Without help: carried the suitcases alone.
Exclusively; only: The burden of proof rests on the prosecution alone.

lone·ly

adj. lone·li·er, lone·li·est

Without companions; lone.
Characterized by aloneness; solitary.
Unfrequented by people; desolate: a lonely crossroads.

Dejected by the awareness of being alone. See Synonyms at alone.
Producing such dejection: the loneliest night of the week.

(from Dictionary.com)

My mom can't be left alone because she feels lonely.

I don't feel either. In fact, I like beling alone sometimes. I can travel alone, I can shop alone, and eat alone. I have trouble watching a movie alone, only because when something is funny, there's no one to turn to and nudge...or maybe go to a club completely by myself without meeting friends...but everything else I have no problem with. A friend of mine a long time ago said that he hated to go to a club alone to meet up with friends. He said that he had to arrive with "people". I'd go alone to meet up with people, but I wouldn't go alone and drink at the bar or something.

When I moved out, I used to like sitting alone on a Saturday night when my roommates were at work and watch TV, talk on the phone, knit, craft, cook...whatever. I didn't mind at all.

When I was in my 20's, I used to care about it a great deal because I felt like I had to be doing something, or going somewhere. I hated going to work without a story to tell because it made me feel like I had no social life.

Don't get me wrong...I love to hang out with my friends. I live for the days that I have mini get aways with them! But, I would give anything to have the occasional "I've got nothing to do today" because that is never the case these days.

Is it sad to look forward to work, just because it's a place that has nothing to do with everything else that's going on with me?

Being emotionally confused is a bitch.

I have absolutely no stability. I can't make up my mind. I can't hang on to a feeling for more than a minute before I either analyze it to death or stomp on it for being in existance for more than that minute.

The worst part is that sometimes I can see pieces of how I used to be prior to my father's death...and I'm a little scared of that person...

That person seems so naive and so anxious. That person seemed much more needy and even desperate at times.

But I don't know who this person is who has emerged from what has happened. I know I'm not cynical, I don't think that's it. I don't think that's it because I'm a positive person.

I'm tired of crying. I almost wish that I just couldn't feel anything for just a few days. I'm always left with the feeling that something is missing. I feel so incomplete...

I feel random. That's IT. It's not that I don't have any direction...I know pretty much where I'm going and how to get there. But my feelings and emotions are scattered. They are all over the place.

Normally, I hate that kind of instability...and I actually don't like that I can't nail down my feelings. But I do like that I'm not that person I was before.

I wish my father was alive. I wish that he was at work right now, so that I could have the security in knowing my daddy would be there for me and my family. But if there was anything that I could positively take away from what is happening...it would be that I've completely changed.

I really have changed. I know my friends believe that I'm still the same sweet gal...but a lot of my thought processes have morphed in some way. Things that I thought were urgent, just aren't anymore.

For instance, I really thought the "goal" was to get married and have kids. I really believed that was some kind of end all be all.

I would love to be married...someday. When the right person comes along, with the right intentions, and when I'm emotionally ready. I could be emotionally ready next year...but I'm not counting on that.

What I realized is that I feel my goals should reflect the person that I am, and the person I would like to be. If I become someone's wife, I don't want that to be my label. I still want to be ME, and not defined by "mother" or "spouse".

I also want to learn as much as I can. I want to be fluent in a few languages. I want to travel the world. I want to be even more creative than I have been.

See, RANDOM...

All of these insurmountable tasks
That lay before me
All of the firsts
And the definite lasts
That lay in store for me

Love In Itself - Depeche Mode

I just wanted to add something a friend just reminded me of...these are the days of firsts.

This was my sister's first birthday without my dad.

This was the first Easter without him, too.

Next month will be the my first birthday, my mom's first anniversary and Mother's Day without him...

I have no thought to finish this entry.

Death is everywhere
The more I look
The more I see
The more I feel
A sense of urgency
Tonight

Fly On The Windscreen - Depeche Mode

There is nothing like death paperwork to brighten your day.

Over and over, I read "age at death", "date of death" or "reason for death".

Talk about taking it's toll...

I want to go to sleep. I want to take a really long nap, or get in at least a good 12 hours.

The next extended vacation I take, I don't want to run around to tourist spots. I don't want to take in the night life. I just want to take a blanket out to the beach, or sit under a big umbrella with a nice comfy lawn chair and SLEEP.

Oh, and shop.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday, and it was very difficult. Going to church with just us three and that missing piece, that space in our family...the space on the wooden pew that used to be my father's.

It was hard to watch all the families with their fathers, knowing that they will go about their day. They will have their Easter brunches together. Most won't have to go to their father's grave and celebrate their first Easter there...

It's all crashing down.

It's all caving in.

My mom and I had a fight on Saturday morning. We screamed. I don't want to yell at her. I don't. But I'm frustrated. I feel like she doesn't understand me. I feel like she doesn't get what I mean when I say we need to see the councelor. I feel like she thinks I have no faith in her ability to handle things emotionally.

And she would be right.

My mom doesn't realize the burden she puts on me when she says the things that she does. She doesn't realize that she makes me feel inadequate by bringing up my shortcomings in a time like this. She says that I'm selfish and think only about myself. She said that she says that I don't do anything to help in the daily rituals and activities of the household.

My mother expects me to read her mind. She expects me to know just what she needs when she needs it.

Now I see where I get it from. Unrealistic expectations. I never realized that it was something ingrained in me for years.

Who do I apologize to for that?

I guess for a start, I don't want to talk about it with my friends anymore...as much as possible. I feel like I sound like a broken record. I feel like what I'm going through is the whole of my being right now, and I don't want talk about it with them.

I know they understand, and I know they'll be there for me, I don't want to expect them to understand and expect them to be there for me at the drop of the hat. But it depresses me to talk about it with them. I'm already having a difficult time with everything away from my friends, but I don't want to talk about it too much when I'm around them.

So, dear friends...I will definitely try to confine my thoughts with regards to my father's death as much as I can to my blog. It tires me to talk about it outside my family, because it occupies the whole of my existance. If you want to know specifics, I'll tell you...but you can read everything here.

I guess I'm afraid that you'll get tired of hearing it from me, and get tired of my company. It's not that I don't have faith in each and every one of you...it's just that I'm tired of dealing with it already, but I have no choice but to go through it.

I will also keep my expectation levels down to a minimum. If I call you, and I don't hear from you right away, or if you don't pick up your cell phone when you see me on caller ID, then I won't expect you all to get back to me at a moments notice. You are not at my beck and call, and I apologize if I've ever made it seem that way. I know what that feels like, and I hate it.

GOD, grant me the serenity

to accept the things
I cannot change,
Courage to change the

things I can, and the
wisdom to know the difference.
Living ONE DAY AT A TIME;

Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardship as the
pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this

sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make

all things right if I
surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy

in this life, and supremely
happy with Him forever in
the next. Amen

Why is everything such an emergency?

Daddy, I'm having trouble handling this...I really am. To mommy, everything is an emergency.

I think we need to go back to the councelor. I think my mom needs to hear how difficult this is.

April 17th is the 40th day reception of my father's death. We need to get plates, find out what kind of food we need to get, and clean the house. My mom seems to think this is extremely urgent to get this done right now. She seems to believe that we can't go out and buy or do these things tomorrow or during the week.

Taxes are due on April 15, and we haven't even done those yet.

I think my father would be angry to know that.

Space, the final frontier.

I need it, and I don't have it right now.

I need emotional space. I feel so weighted down. I feel trapped. I feel like I have no room to breathe. I feel surrounded. I feel like a maiden in a tower. I feel like I'm inside of a glass box...like I can see what's out there, but I can't quite get to it at this moment.

It's not fair. I can't feel guilty for wanting my space...I can't. I feel like I want to run, but I'm held back by obligation.

I can't run, that's also not fair. I need to be there for my family.

But I feel like my family needs to understand ME.

I wrote a line in a poem once:

"I take solace in trival things..."

I really do.

I love a good coffee...and a good cheesecake. I love massages. I love Depeche Mode and John Mayer (I just got tickets to see John Mayer...yay!). I love to travel. I love vintage t-shirts (even fake ones, as long as they look good). I love a good hug, but love a great kiss even better. I love my CD collection. I love a new purse. I love to shop. I love new shoes that look great and don't hurt my feet (ie sneakers). I love to wake up from a good night's sleep. I love McDonald's breakfast burritos. I love a great fitting pair of jeans. I love the TV show "Friends", and I don't care that anyone thinks that I'm a geek for being able to recite random lines verbatim (or entire shows, believe it or not).

I don't want to feel guilty for loving these things. I'm tired of telling people that I'm "hanging in there" because I feel guilty for saying "I feel great".

But there are times that I do feel great.

This is one of those times.

Back from Las Vegas! I definitely had more than just a double Kamikaze Friday night...as evidenced by the massive hang over I had on Saturday. But as they say, it's the price to pay to the party gods (that's actually a quote from "Clueless").

It was really hard to concentrate while I was there. I definitely had fun, and needed to get away from it all for a little while...but my mind went wandering a little. Ok, my mind went wandering quite a bit.

Being in a casino reminds me of my dad. He and my mother used to go gambling at the local Indian reservations, and the most recent time we went as a family was during my mother's birthday this year (back in January). We sat at the nickel slots with my dad and each put in at least a $10. I gave my dad some money to gamble, too. We went to this fishing themed slot machine. It's the kind were it takes about 30 nickels and you could win on multiple lines. I think I won about $10.

I just couldn't bring myself to play one of those games in Vegas. I tried 1 nickel slot, and then I just stuck to the quarter ones (also, I was using my friend's MGM Players card, and you can't win any points just doing the nickels).

It's strange how you associate images and sounds with people. Since I don't gamble, I associate any of the sounds of the clining machines and the surroundings of a casino with my parents because that was their little hobby on the weekends. My mom and dad were very good at saving their money, so they never hurt paying bills and had a nice amount of expendable cash to have fun with...and they both loved nothing better than to casino hop at the Indian reservations. It was never difficult to get them gifts for Christmas and birthdays because they just wanted gambling money, or wanted to eat at the buffet at any of the casinos.

My mom and dad loved going to the casinos, not just to win money...but for the time together. They are close to their retirement years, and my dad wanted to just work until he reached 65. He knew his social security and retirement would kick in, then they were going to travel around San Diego and possibly the US to go to some of the major casinos (like Las Vegas and Taj Mahal in Atlantic City).

I took my mom to lunch, shopping and to my dad's grave yesterday. She told me about their planned casino hopping trip, and was so sad when she realized her partner in crime wasn't going to be around to plan it anymore.

I think I'll plan a trip to Vegas with my mom. Or maybe she needs to go with her friends. I think she needs to associate the sounds and sights of the casino with new things so that she doesn't get too sad about it. Right now, she imagines my dad sitting next to her while playing...she remembers the shirts he would wear and their routines: they would go to lunch at the Navy Exchange then head to the casino (always calling both their daughters to tell us they were going to "study" at "school", which always made us laugh...no matter how many times they said it). Then they would have dinner at the buffet there, and depending on if they had a comped room, they would either come home or stay the night.

I could tell how much she misses him when she reminisces about those times, and little does she know that she helps me to create a vivid memory that I also will retain in both my heart and my mind.

First of all, I learned how to change the oil in my car last night. Thank you (you know who you are) for helping me with that. It helps me feed the need to become more independent...which makes the next sentence look a little strange:

I'm coming to grips with the loss of my independence.

Even now, I am trying to figure out how to express disappointment in suddenly not having some of the freedoms I had without feeling an incredible amount of disprespect for my parents.

I say parents because I feel like I'm doing a disservice to both of them: my mom is emotional and any arguments will bring her to the brink, and because my father is dead.

I have never been one to effectively "bite my tongue". But lately, I've found myself in several situations which warrant such an action.

I already have to stifle myself at work, which is fine because I have no true emotional investment there. But now I have to find ways to make the adage "if you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all" a reality.

I'm frustrated.

God DAMNIT, I'm back at that anger phase.

When I get to Vegas, I'm having a double Kamikaze.