Marked

Today has been unexpectedly full of Dad stuff.

I was searching my Gmail account this morning for some information I'd sent awhile back and found an old chat log between Dad and me back when I was in Indonesia.  It brought a smile to my face and I suddenly thought, "Hey, wait.  If this was saved, are there others?"  A quick search later and I was face to face with about a dozen conversations with my father, frozen in time and waiting for me to find them.

I can hear his voice when I read the words.  We talked about food and Dad's experiences in France and Portugal.  We talked about his job and how he was scraping by trying to divert product.  We talked about Grandma and how she was doing with her cancer treatments.  We talked about Lucy (our family dog) being put down.  He gave me advice on taking care of my house and the renters that had left it in poor shape.  He was genuinely happy to chat, even though I know he would've greatly preferred a phone call.

Dad was never a skilled typist; some of his messages suddenly become ALL CAPS and later return to normal without explanation.  He wasn't the greatest speller in the world.  He tried to explain to me what Pineapple Upside Down Pie was ("it's like cake, but it's pie")  Some excerpts:

7:29 AM me: It's 9:30 PM

7:30 AM Dad: Wow, it's 7:30, Ijust milked the chickens.

 me: Early!

7:31 AM Dad: I HAVEN'T HAD MY COFFEE

11:39 AM Dad: I have already packed and am ready to go

  Gail says Hi.

 me: Tell her hi back! How is she doing?

 Dad: She loved your card

8:46 PM me: just getting up for breakfast. It's cooler here than it is there - I hear ya'll are having quite the heat wave.

8:47 PM Dad: Yep, 100 today

 me: That's rough.

8:48 PM Dad: no, 140 is rough

 me: Well, that's true.

  Any diverting luck?

8:49 PM Dad: IT'S 140 IN IRAQ

9:11 PM Dad: SHE IS TAKING PILLS, PILLS . she can'teat garlic or get out in the sun

9:12 PM Was that too tough for you to understand

9:13 PM She doesn't eat steak, steaks scare her

9:14 PM me: ...

 Dad: She has to quit smoking, because of her cofin

 me: Well, that would be a blessing.

9:15 PM Dad: Dont say Blessing or holy water

 me: because of the garlic, right?

 Dad: THAT'S THE TICKET

 me: I'm caught up now

Some of it makes me laugh.  Some of it makes me tear up.  All of it reminds me that I miss him.  But it is getting easier.  Finds like this helps.  I also got the call that Dad's grave marker was finished and placed.  Since his last 'story' that I heard every time we talked was about someone at Reasor's asking him if he was THE Tony Martin, Tyler and I found it only fitting to mark his final resting place.

Dad closed all of his IM conversations with 'Love ya, Nuff Said'.  It was nice to hear your voice again, Dad.  I love you.

Nuff said.

Next

I walked into a courtroom for the second time this year and talked to a judge about a recent loss.  After six years, four months, and eight days of marriage it's officially and legally done for.  Yeah, it's been coming for a long time and has essentially been over since November...but getting the documents signed and filed means it's truly over and done with.  I have looked inwards and discovered a strange sense of uncertainty.

Not about myself.  I feel more sure of myself now than I ever have in my life.  But I've been dealing with death and divorce for so long there will truly be a gap that I'm not used to having.  My hope is to recharge the ol' emotional Duracell's and return to a place of understanding and stability.  I no longer have to organize and plan around the legal system and that's definitely going to be a de-stresser.  The last of the related bills are paid or scheduled in a way that I shouldn't have any additional craziness over and above the typical day-to-day random expenditures that crop up.

I've done all this and maintained relationships with my friends.  Thank you all for sticking with me during these ups and downs.  It's not over, but the worst has definitely passed.  I've started exercising regularly and feel good about it.  I am doing well at my job and am seeing some doors open thanks to my hard work.  I feel cared for and know that I have a network of people to lean on when the night is unfriendly.

Time to move forward.

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.