...and time will pass.
I have to keep telling myself that. It has been a moment for the last 3 weeks I guess. It has just plain sucked. It's been almost surreal with everyting going on. Somedays I don't really think that much about Dad, but then there are other days where I am driven to tears that I can't hold back.
I put on a front that "I'm doing ok." But you know what, I'm not ok. I'm ok with the fact that he's left us for someone else. I'm not ok that he thinks that this is an okay lifestyle to lead. I'm not ok with the fact that he didn't call to wish me Happy Birthday. I'm not ok with the fact that he has lied to us. Im not ok with the fact that this is happening period.
But you know what I'm ok with? I'm ok with the fact that I know I'm going to survive. I'm ok with the fact that my mom will become a better woman because of this. I'm ok with the fact that I have absolute amazing friends and family who surround me with love and support. I'm ok with the fact that God is working through this relationship and family. I'm ok.
I stood in my dad's closet and I thought to myself, "This isn't happening. This is NOT happening again." But it is. As I touched my dad's sweaters and took in the smell of "him" I kept telling myself that the dad that raised me is dead. He's gone.
The dad that drove me to piano every week is gone.
The dad that taught me how to fly a kite at Milliken is no longer here.
The dad that would take me to Wendy's and to the library every week is gone.
The dad that dressed me and fixed me breakfast every morning in elementary school won't be doing that anymore.
The dad that taught me how to drive (and navigate me around SPTBG) is no longer available to call upon when I get lost in Greenville at 11:30 at night now.
The dad that left me roses on Valentine's Day and birthdays by my bedside won't deliver those now.
The dad that teased me about not knowing how to clean the swimming pool won't offer his sarcasim anymore.
The dad that always treated me to Pizza Inn for a "good dinner" won't be my dinner date anymore.
The dad that raised is gone. Not here. Not present.
I know this may sound so "pitty" but let me wallow. I haven't wallowed that much, well except for the occasional cry every week.
But I will say this--I will miss his dern good pancakes.
