Losing someone is never easy. No matter how prepared you are, no matter how many close calls there have been, and no matter how many tears are shed... it's never easy. I'm not really talking about breaking up with someone (although, that really stings too). I'm talking about someone passing away.
When I was little, I had this really funny idea of how life worked. I figured that one day, I would just become an adult. My parents were basically the coolest adults I had ever met in my life, and I knew that they had it all figured out. I'm sure most kids thought that too.
In every sense of the word, my father was Superman. He took me to school every day, was always there to pick me up, had so many great stories to tell me on our way to McDonalds for our afternoon snack of a cheeseburger Happy Meal and an orange flavored Hi-C (obviously the best choice at McDonalds other than the sweet tea). He would listen to my rambling of whatever I did in art class, or be my confidant when I talked about what that stupid boy said to me. He was all of my friends' best friend. All my friends in elementary school, junior high, and high school loved my dad as if he was their dad.
We would spend week nights together watching "Doctor Who" and "Psyche." He would help me practice driving around my neighborhood (bad idea). My dad would write basically every speech for me because my dad could write a speech on anything. My dad was the definition of number-one dad, and he still is.
My dad wasn't perfect, though. When I was five, he had a massive heart attack that resulted in him having to have open heart surgery. Being five, I didn't really understand why my dad couldn't really do much with me anymore. I didn't understand why he was so sick. I never grasped how close I was to losing my dad forever. Throughout the rest of my days in school, his health declined. Somehow, that never stopped his spirit, his love for life and his love for his children.
My dad was in and out of the hospital a lot when I was in high school. I kind of got used to going to the hospital every month to check up on him or to just talk to him and it was really hard on me. Every time I would think, "Is this it? Is this his time?" None of my friends quite understood what I was going through, so I couldn't really talk to anyone about it. I was a total rebel in high school and went out of my way to not get along with my mom or my siblings. I felt so alone, and the only thing that kept me going was seeing my father keep his spirits high.
I moved out of my house when I went to college. My first semester, I went home and visited as much as I could. I really missed my parents, but I was so wrapped up in living the college life that I didn't really notice that my dad was really slipping away. I never went home my second semester of college. I probably went home five times in January and February. I never wanted to miss anything happening on campus.
I randomly went home one day. I walked into my dad's room trying to find a medical card my mom had left with him for me. Our conversation was short and I ran out of the house without even saying goodbye. I can honestly say that my biggest regret in life. I always said goodbye to him---always and that day I just... didn't.
The following day he fell into a coma, which resulted in us taking him off life support that same evening. I visited the following morning on my way to work. He died the next day.
It came so suddenly, like something out of a heart-wrenching novel. When my mom called to tell me, I didn't even cry, I just sort of hung up the phone and went back to sleep. My brain snapped and I don't think I have ever put it back together.
(My father and I at my sister'swedding)
Losing someone you love is life altering---especially in college when you're trying to figure out who you are. I hate going on Facebook or Instagram and reading post from my friends about how they have lost a loved one, too because I know how it feels. I know the scary feeling you get in the pit of your stomach, the lump in your throat, the longing to see some kind of sign that they're still with you. Every birthday, every Father's Day---everyday, really---I think about my dad and wish that I just could have said goodbye. Coping with his death has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, so if you're struggling here are few ways I've been dealing:
- Remember everything you did with that person. The good, the bad, the ugly. Remember how they made you feel, and remember their presence.
- Talk about that person. I think that talking about my dad has helped me make so much progress. I love sitting down with my mom at Chipotle and talking about all the funny stuff my dad would do.
- Accept it. This was, and still is, the hardest thing. Even after a year, I almost pick my phone up and call him out of habit. Accepting that he is gone has helped me be able to think about him without bursting into tears.
The takeaway is this: Love and appreciate those in your life. Life is fragile.
Have you lost a loved one? Are you feeling hopeless? There is help. Contact Crisis Support Group at 1-800-273-TALK.
