Dearest Old Turtle,
My latest epiphany is this: The old is always better than the new. Why? Because it's a tried and true thing. Whether it's good or bad you know how it's going to be like. There are no surprises. No heartaches. Nothing too extreme to make your world off kilter. Just the same old same old. I know blah blah everyone tells me in sticking with the old, you miss out on the new. New friends, new fashion, new and exciting things. But to me I'll take the old any day. I'm the kind of person that will like a pair of shoes so much I would get the same pair over and over again in the same color. I don't deal well with change. People are like plants. They have a certain tolerance to being re-potted or moved around. I wither and die if I have too much change/excitement/or anything that throws my world off balance. That being said...let's move into the meat of this entry...
I spoke with my mother and she told me to post a blog about my father. Just to see if I was really heartless. She posted an extremely maudlin and sentimental entry about my father which I strangely found disconcerting. The truth is, I always like to come off as noncholant and pleasant as possible. I'm the girl that is never stressed, worried, or sad. Some people might say I don't possess those emotions anymore. But there's always the old saying "There must be a chink in the armor somewhere." And my father is every bit a raw wound for me. It's the kind of pain that at first hurt you to breathe but then existed so long that you almost forgot it was a wound. A paper cut slices through your upper epidermis. But a deeper cut draws blood but is surprisingly painless.
As of late, my attitude towards my father is that I don't like to mention him. Out of sight, out of mind, out of memory. As soon as anyone mentions it, all my defenses go up. It's like someone pressing your scab and testing to see if it's ready to fall off. But it's not and it will always be there...I think what bothers me the most is I don't have closure. He died so suddenly that I can only assume what my closure should be. The funny thing is everyone wants to place the blame of his death on someone else, even on themselves!!! But if it were that simple, I could easily easily blame myself. But the sad thing is his death at a young age isn't really something you can blame anyone or yourself for.
We are really our parent's children. It's hard to look in the mirror and see my dad's face staring back. It's hard to wonder every day what could have been or might have been. It's even harder to pick up the bits and pieces of your life without the person you took for granted would be there for most of it. Sometimes I'll be watching my favorite sitcom and think to myself, "Oh, I should call my dad and tell him. He would love this hahaha..." Then stop myself. I don't think they have phones in heaven or hell for that matter. My dad was a very humorous and fun person to be around. He could make every day seem worth living. He could find the amusing side to anything. He could argue the devil's advocate very well. He would tell these silly jokes but make everyone laugh because he told them with such candor. Oh, he was also very smart too. On top of that he was crazy on the basketball court, played Go like nobody's business, and was so affable and charming.
How does a daughter who always looked up to her father accept the fact that he left the family for other women? How does a daughter who always strived to be like him view her life values and what kind of adult to grow up to be? Does she choose to be like him but then stop herself whenever she see's traces of him pop up in her mannerisms or personality? Because God forbid she falls into immorality just like him. But maybe I'm just being too extreme. So I think if I'm not mistaken my father would tell me in this instance "Take it easy. Why so serious?" I'll just have to agree with him this one time.
So to answer my mom's question of the day for me. Why am I so heartless? It's not that I'm heartless. It's because I'm terrified of examining how I really feel. My father is still a very important part of my life. He was my first hero, my first caretaker, my first teacher, my first partner in crime, and my first love. And we all know that it's hard to say good bye to the first in your life. I'd rather say "Farwell until we meet tomorrow."
Back to the whole change business. I'll just live a little. Somehow I think that's what my father would tell me. Who knows? Maybe I'll see glimpses of him in me. That would ease the pain of how much I truly miss him.
In my heart forever,
Your Loving Daughter J
P.S. I think if you were alive now and I'm not mistaken, you would prolly keel over and die after looking at the horrible economy and it's effects on your stocks hehehe =D But nah, knowing you, you would just be like a PA system amongst the relatives and dole out equal amount of complaints and encouragements to them.
P.P.S. If there is an afterlife, I hope you are having fun. I can't imagine you with that hell and brimstone nonsense. You were always meant to be in a happy environment.
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