Well, throughout these past almost 10 months I've had a handful of dreams depicting my dad. I remember them mostly being more close to his end. In the beginning they were always violent dreams - him and I fighting in them, always a battle.
The other night I had an actual good dream about him - I mean, the dream itself wasn't all that great, it left me feeling somewhat unsettled. But his appearance was different. In this dream (mind you, dreams are so hard to explain in words) I parked my car in a parking lot. When I went to leave, my car was not there, but there was a tractor trailer parked in its place. Tractor trailers were supposed to park in a different area in the big parking lot, but this tractor trailer was where I had left my car. In my dream I understood it to be that I was supposed to drive the tractor trailer. So I pulled out of the parking lot, got a few blocks down the road and realized it didn't feel right. Then I turned around and took the tractor trailer back to the parking lot and there was an angry, gruff looking man, the owner of the tractor trailer. That's when dad appeared. Next thing I know I'm on the side of the road across the street, able to see what's going on, and my I could see my dad trying to calm the man down. Then dad's in front of me, but down below like the parking lot was not at street level. And I looked at him, gave him a thumbs up, then added the 2 thumbs up. I mouthed Thank You. And just as the words "I love you" were coming out of my mouth, he vanished. He didn't get to hear me say it.
Just as I was typing out the dream sequence, I realized the tractor trailer reference and wondered if it was supposed to correlate to how my dad died. I don't really know what to think of it, the entire thing. But I think this dream will stay with me always.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
father-daughter dance...
A few weekends ago my husband and I were in North Carolina for his cousin's wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony, the food was delicious. But I wasn't expecting the following to happen:
Cue the father-daughter dance.
I freaking LOST IT. It might be normal to see tears of joy at weddings. But I'm sure you could see by the look on my face for the entire hour that I could not control the tears from falling that these tears were not of joy.
Back when I was planning my wedding 2 years ago, Dad was still around, but we weren't really speaking. We never had the kind of father/daughter relationship that I will venture to say that most young women have. Dad was, of course, invited to the wedding, but I grappled and grappled with the decision to let him walk me down the aisle. The father-daughter dance was a definite no - for one, I'm not a dancer and was anxious enough over dancing with my new husband. It just would've been extremely awkward. You know how some girls have father-daughter dances in grade school? I never had that. So it was weird to me.
In largely using a wedding planning message board to plan my wedding, I was witness to the number of girls who were fortunate enough to have amazing relationships with their dads, and I was envious.
And so, after my dad died, I had so many unresolved feelings because not only did I choose to not have him walk me down the aisle (I chose my mom, she's the one who raised me and deserved the honor), not only did I never even consider doing a father-daughter dance - but my dad didn't come to my wedding - AT ALL.
Then of course he goes and kills himself. I can't even begin to explain the inner turmoil I feel over it.
But I guess being witness to the amazing relationship that my cousin-in-law has with her father, and seeing the love that he has for her - it just really broke me down - causing me uncontrollable tears in a place where I couldn't escape - at a wedding, 4 states from home, no car to go to, a bathroom full of women, mosquitos at the ready on the hot summer night. I was forced to just sit there at the table to deal with it.
Cue the father-daughter dance.
I freaking LOST IT. It might be normal to see tears of joy at weddings. But I'm sure you could see by the look on my face for the entire hour that I could not control the tears from falling that these tears were not of joy.
Back when I was planning my wedding 2 years ago, Dad was still around, but we weren't really speaking. We never had the kind of father/daughter relationship that I will venture to say that most young women have. Dad was, of course, invited to the wedding, but I grappled and grappled with the decision to let him walk me down the aisle. The father-daughter dance was a definite no - for one, I'm not a dancer and was anxious enough over dancing with my new husband. It just would've been extremely awkward. You know how some girls have father-daughter dances in grade school? I never had that. So it was weird to me.
In largely using a wedding planning message board to plan my wedding, I was witness to the number of girls who were fortunate enough to have amazing relationships with their dads, and I was envious.
And so, after my dad died, I had so many unresolved feelings because not only did I choose to not have him walk me down the aisle (I chose my mom, she's the one who raised me and deserved the honor), not only did I never even consider doing a father-daughter dance - but my dad didn't come to my wedding - AT ALL.
Then of course he goes and kills himself. I can't even begin to explain the inner turmoil I feel over it.
But I guess being witness to the amazing relationship that my cousin-in-law has with her father, and seeing the love that he has for her - it just really broke me down - causing me uncontrollable tears in a place where I couldn't escape - at a wedding, 4 states from home, no car to go to, a bathroom full of women, mosquitos at the ready on the hot summer night. I was forced to just sit there at the table to deal with it.
Friday, September 12, 2008
bowling ball
I have my own bowling ball. How many people do you know actually have their own bowling ball? My mom and I are the only ones that I know of. I even have my own bowling shoes, and bowling ball bag. One might ask "why?", especially since I never go bowling - anymore. But there once was a time, I'd say about 5 years ago or so, where I did bowl. And that was because of my dad.
During the first 8 months after his death I found it really really difficult to find the good memories. There weren't many, and that's what makes it so hard - you have to trudge through all of the bad memories to find the good ones. Well, today bowling came up in conversation and I started to recall the day I bought my bowling ball.
This must've been during one of dad's upswings - a high, if you will, on the bipolar rollercoaster. He was on this kick for going bowling, and I joined in with him and mom. It didn't last long - I think because mom was starting to have issues with her wrist. But I remember going with him a few times to bowl. One day he even took me and my now-husband. Just the 3 of us.
I'm thankful for this memory being bowled into my pin-head.
During the first 8 months after his death I found it really really difficult to find the good memories. There weren't many, and that's what makes it so hard - you have to trudge through all of the bad memories to find the good ones. Well, today bowling came up in conversation and I started to recall the day I bought my bowling ball.
This must've been during one of dad's upswings - a high, if you will, on the bipolar rollercoaster. He was on this kick for going bowling, and I joined in with him and mom. It didn't last long - I think because mom was starting to have issues with her wrist. But I remember going with him a few times to bowl. One day he even took me and my now-husband. Just the 3 of us.
I'm thankful for this memory being bowled into my pin-head.
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