Coffee

I used to abhor mornings.  I'd sign up for the late shift at work and feel accomplished when I slept past noon.  I'd stay up and out late and repeat the process.  Mornings were for school, and school's out.  Even when I worked 8-5 at my old job I despised getting up and about that early.  When I traveled, I found that my internal clock changed.  When I got home, I tried to get back to a lazy bones schedule but my body wouldn't have it.

I've been on a late shift (2-11) since December and will most likely be on it for awhile longer.  I've slowly been slipping into a later and later sleep schedule.  Last week, I decided I would start running a few mornings a week and get into better shape.  I have been getting up at 7:00 every other day or so to get out and beat the heat.  I always tell myself I'm going to go home and go back to sleep, but that never works.  When I sit and look at myself, I see that I really enjoy having my whole morning.  My days feel fuller.

If I think about it long enough, mornings remind me of Dad.  He would take me to school some mornings and we'd always stop for breakfast.  I'd go to the office with him occasionally on Saturdays and wander the halls of Horner Foods while he worked on price books.  Maybe we'd go check a few stores.  Early mornings remind me of Disney World and getting to the park at opening.  I remember fixing Dad a tall glass of Diet Coke and a cup of coffee while he was in the shower.  I remember getting up to the smell of my favorite meal and helping Dad scramble the eggs.  I laugh as I write this as I remember his insane energy in the mornings while I would grumble.  We called it Narca-wakey; the affliction of being suddenly totally awake.  That laughter hitches when I realize those memories are all I have now.  I suppose that's all we have anyway.  That's how life works.

I get a strange pleasure out of sitting in my house (or on my porch, should the weather not be molten outside) with a cup of coffee and knowing the world is spinning up.  It's not hurried yet.  It's not stressful yet.  The day is new and there are no expectations.  By the time I go into the office, I've lived a whole day.  Work's just a piece of the larger picture, not the overwhelming task.

Six Months Later

I went to work yesterday like normal.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  It's been dreadfully hot in the heartland and I've had a real focus on getting from air-conditioned-place to air-conditioned-place as quickly as possible.  I got to work, booted up my computer, and looked over at a picture on my desk.  Since Christmas, I've had a picture of my family right next to my desk phone.  It's probably my favorite picture of the four of us together.  For no real reason that I was aware of, the picture of my father made me tear up and I had to quickly busy myself with work stuff.  I told a friend of mine about it and she asked if any important dates were coming up.  After thinking for a minute, I realized that today, July 18th, marks six months since The Call.

As I've mentioned before, it simultaneously feels like it's been years and like this all happened yesterday.  I've also noticed that Dad's voice in my head is now at a lower volume than it used to be.  I know the day will come eventually when I will have to struggle to truly hear him.  It breaks my heart, but that's life.  About a week ago, I took his picture down from the shelf and cried while holding it.  I thought that only happened in the movies.  Guess not.  Aside from that moment, it's been a good month since I've had any kind of emotional breakdown over this.  I've been more focused on finalizing my divorce.

Dad's contact is still in my phone.  Every time I scroll by it, I think about removing it...and decide not to.  It's not like I need the space in my phone.  And there's a tiny bit of comfort having it in there; I remember when I could call him and it reminds me to still talk to him.  I just don't have to press 'Talk' anymore.  I still think about him all the time.  It's almost annoying.  I relive the same memories over and over again.  I remember how sad he was the last few years of his life.  I don't feel regret.  Just sadness.

I finally ordered a custom plate for Dad's Mustang.  I've wanted to for as long as I've had it.  I thought about a lot of things, and finally settled on something that meant a lot to both of us.  Dad's favorite actor was John Wayne.  When I was little, I'd watch movies with him all the time...but I couldn't pronounce John Wayne.  The closest I got was 'jah vee, daddy!'  So that's what I got.  Jah Vee.  People will ask and it will give me the opportunity to share.

Miss you Dad.  I know it'll be okay.  I just wish it was already.

Measuring Time

I have an odd work schedule.  I'm off on Thursdays and Fridays and work from 2:00 PM to 11:00 PM on the other days of the week.  I measure my weeks on this schedule; the weeks start on Saturday and end on Friday.  It's interesting to look at that very conventional system and see how easy it is to adapt to whatever I need; I lay out my week differently than just about everyone else I know but it's what I gotta do.

I take that information and look at my past eight months.  I've lost three important people in my life and the impact has been tremendous.  I see Indi dropping me off at the airport to go to BlizzCon last October and see a very different person getting on that flight.  I look forward and see myself helping Indi move out.  Then I see myself watching old home movies on VHS with Dad the night before Grandma's funeral.  Then I hear my uncle's voice and see myself embracing my mother after I learned that Dad was gone.  It's been over five months since that day and time has been measured differently.

There are days that it feels like I'm on vacation from myself.  It doesn't feel like a short period of time anymore, but there's still a lingering feeling that everything will return to normal someday.  Objectively, I know this isn't true.  Other days I feel like I've been on my own forever and I don't remember what it was like to curl up at night and be happily in the arms of another, though that honestly isn't that long ago.  To fully appreciate the strangeness of time, all I really have to do is look at my work and realize that this time last year I was just completing my training for an entry level position and now I'm responsible for a team and well known throughout the center.

My point with all of this is that we all feel time differently.  This isn't just a you vs. me observation, but a me vs. me observation too.  I feel time differently, sometimes moment by moment.  It's honestly like I'm time traveling within myself.  I'm broken.  I'm fixed.  I'm ready to move on.  I'm not.  I think of Dad and laugh.  I think of Dad and cry.  I pick up my phone to text something funny to Indi.  I remember that it's not the same.  I've been here forever.  I only just got here.

There's progress in that realization.  I do remember a few months ago when I felt broken ALL of the time.  That's not the case anymore.  There is a method to this madness...at least, there'd better be.

Confusion

Historically, I do not have pleasant dreams.  Before I met Indi, I often didn’t remember them; maybe one or two a month.  They were always a jumbled mess or a nightmare.  When we started sharing the same bed, I started remembering my dreams nightly.  Still a mixture of confused/bad dreams, but I remembered them regularly.  After we split, I expected to go back to my rare remembrance state of being.  So far, that hasn’t happened.

In addition to recalling my dreams every morning, they are getting progressively more wrenching.  After Dad passed, I had a series of dreams about him that caused me to awake and re-experience the pain of loss.  Lately I’ve been dreaming a lot about Indi and waking up still thinking she would be lying next to me.  It’s frustrating and confusing.  I miss her a lot, obviously…but it’s been six months.  Why do I feel like I’ve regressed to a state where if she called today and asked to move back in, I’d say yes?  Is it meant to be?  Am I just lonely?  

Stupid brain.  I feel like I’m never destined to be happy again.

Mother's Day

Some of you have the pleasure of knowing my mother.  She comes out to Baron von Swagger shows and hangs out at my place sometimes.  She's a cool lady and has been as long as I've been around.  She's been doing this job for thirty years; twenty-six of those years have been double time.  I was a pretty good kid, but I wasn't perfect.  She has the patience of a saint.  Those of you who know my brother know she must!

Mom was always the one helping me with my homework, or walking the aisles of Hobby Lobby while we planned the next school project.  She was the one that encouraged me to read.  Whenever I awoke from a bad dream, she comforted me.  She let me know she was religious while leaving me open to make my own choices.  She taught me how to drive, knowing my father's temper wasn't the best learning tool.  She held me when I cried from the agony of my first heartbreak.  She believed in me and told me I could be anybody I wanted to be.

When Dad passed away, they had been divorced for over six years.  Yet she was there for me and my brother immediately and entirely.  In the dark silence of my uncle's house, I knelt next to the couch where she slept and woke her. Once again, she held me as I experienced sorrow the depths of which I'd never experienced.  She gave me words of comfort and as much reassurance that any mortal could.  She held my hand and smiled.

In good times and bad, Mom has always been just a phone call away.  I know I can reach out to her at any time and she will be there gladly.  When I talk to her, I hear the joy in her voice.  I know she is proud of me.  I don't have a little picture frame that says, 'WORLDS BEST MOM'.  I don't need to advertise.  The smile on my face says everything.  Anyone that knows her knows that's true.  I love her dearly and wish her the happiest of Mother's Days.

To my Father

Hey Dad!

Been thinking about you a lot today, so I figured I'd write to you and let you know how my day is going.  I had to get up early (for me, anyway) and drive to Pawhuska today.  I was nervous, because I had to appear before a judge and possibly testify.  I remember you telling me about testifying when you had that car accident back in the mid-nineties.  Didn't you get t-boned by a Jenks driving instructor?  I remember it being ridiculous on some level.  Anyway, this wasn't for any kind of accident; it was to settle your estate.  Still, it was a courtroom and I'd never been in one before.

I accidentally turned my alarm off this morning, but ended up being okay; I woke up three minutes after my 'final snooze' deadline all on my own.  Thanks for that.  I had set out a nice shirt, one of your ties, and a jacket to wear.  I understand you're supposed to dress up for court.  I grabbed your tie bar, too; the one with the embossed 'M' on it.  I felt it would be a subtle yet sharp way to let the world know I am your son.  I left the house a little before 8:30 and hit the road.

They've opened the Quicktrip at Highway 75 and Highway 20.  I know how often you made this drive, and know that you would've appreciated having it out here.  I stopped and got coffee.  When I arrived in Pawhuska, I noted the new Mcdonald's was open, too.  You had always complained about the lack of food options in P-town, and I'm sorry you weren't there to take advantage of it.  No matter; I wasn't hungry.  Before long I found myself sitting with my lawyer, going over last minute details and possible questions the judge may ask me.  I remember remarking fondly about the fact that he used a lot of Big Chief tablets to take notes, however it now wore on me, as he wasn't well organized.  I helped him with some math to take care of our final creditors and we went to the courthouse on time.

At the Osage County Courthouse, if you didn't know, the Probate Court time takes place right after domestic dispute cases, stuff like restraining orders.  I sat in the courtroom and listened to a few cases before it was my turn and tried to avoid eye contact.  I felt like I'd tapped into personal phone conversations, and emotions were high.  Before I knew it, it was time for our case.  My palms were sweaty but I walked tall to the front and sat in front of the judge.  He and my lawyer (a former judge himself) had a friendly banter regarding the required information, the judge asked me if everything was in order, and signed off.  Way easier than I expected, and I was relieved.

As I walked out of the court house, the sun came out for a little bit.  Thanks for that, too.  It's been a rough 24 hours as I prepared to lay this last task to rest before moving on in earnest.  I still hear your laugh and still look at my phone, hoping you will call me, though I know that time is now long past.  It's been three months since my world changed, but I'm managing okay.  I have a lot of friends and family that have helped me.  I also have you to talk to, anytime, and for that I am thankful.

Miss you, Dad.  Love you.  I've enclosed a picture of myself and the Mustang; I want you to know I'm taking extra special care of it for you.

Eve

Tomorrow morning, I drive to Pawhuska and appear before a judge.  Dad's estate gets finalized, and the legal side of my father's passing will be completed.  All his bills will be paid, and I will be free to move on from the paperwork, signatures, haggling with creditors, and stresses of fairly splitting what's left between me and my brother.

I got the oil changed in the Mustang last week.  One of the guys at Jiffy Lube asked some questions about the car's history and I mentioned that I wasn't sure, as it belonged to my father and he passed in January.  The guy said, "Oh, that just happened.  I'm sorry to hear that."

What do you mean, it just happened?  Tomorrow marks three months since Dad was found.  It feels like an eternity.  It's like he's been gone for years.  It's something I feel like I've always lived with.  Some mornings I wake up and just sit, not thinking about anything specific except how little I want to interact with the outside world.  I want to run away to some exotic place where I can focus on new experiences and get to know new people so I don't have to dwell on the old familiar aches.

I'm a very empathetic person.  I consider it one of my greatest traits.  In the last three months, I've felt that reservoir deplete and there are times when I don't feel anything for others.  It's not a callous thing; it's like going to take a drink from a glass that is empty.  I don't break down very much any more, but I feel so emotionally lethargic.  I'm dating an awesome girl, and we have great times together, yet there are times I just shut off.  I'm happy when Mom or my brother calls me, but I don't always want to see them, though my heart aches for their company more now that I've been touched by absence.  As I've mentioned before, I feel like I live in a world of contradiction.

At least tomorrow will bring some closure.  I can stop pouring energy into that aspect of the long goodbye and maybe save some of it up again.  Dad's birthday is on May 3rd, Lord knows I'm going to need it then.