Lost

I feel sick to my stomach and faint of heart
I think of what I’ve lost
I wonder how I’ve kept from completely falling apart
Life is a journey
For some, that journey is hard and cold
Every time I seem to get warm, it starts to snow
Some people are gone due to death taking it’s toll
Some people are gone due to life’s changing roles
Whether taken from the earth, or just from my life, you remain forever in my heart
Whether you are floating in heaven, or walking in a nearby park
If I don’t have you, then I think of what I’ve lost

Fiery Sign

As I look into the night sky,
I think of you.
Are the Heavens up above?
Is it just endless blue?
I ask, if you can hear me, to summon a shooting star
to shoot across the night sky, so that I know that you can hear me from afar.
Looking up, hopeful, I wait for my fiery sign;
but, to my disappointment, nothing catches my eye.
If you could hear me, my sweet father, I know you’d show me a sign.
In this moment, yet again I wonder, if there is an after life.

Some days,

Some days, like today, I feel like the world is caving in around me. All of my progress seems to run away and I’m left empty and tired. Sleeping never helps, although it can be a good escape. It’s a good escape if my dreams stray from turning into nightmares that wake me in a cold, abrupt, sweat. Tears wash my mascara onto my acne-prone cheeks as I sit, in the fetal position, in my bathroom floor. I don’t know why, but that’s always seemed like the best place to cry, especially on a pile of dirty towels I’ve let accumulate over the week. Sometimes, I can hear his voice in my head so perfectly that it’s like he’s whispering in my ear; some days, like today, I have to strain to hear, “I love you too, sweetheart.” That’s my only comfort.. that, and remembering his smile. Some days, like today, I feel like he should still be here; I yearn to put my head on his left shoulder and smell his comforting and familiar scent. He’d wrap his arms around me and I’d tell him how much I love him; he’d tell me the same in return. I’d give anything for one more hug, although I know one more would never be enough. Some days, unlike today, I feel like he’s been gone an eternity. Those days are a little easier, though not much. Even on those days, it’s usually easy to hear his voice in my head. Today, I’m sad, empty, broken, and lost. Tomorrow, who knows. I’ll end my day missing you, only to wake up the same; maybe tomorrow will be an easier kind of pain.

f a i t h

Faith is no longer, nor has been for a very long time, enough to get me through the day. Faith, to me, is an optimistic lie you tell yourself to feel better about something that you desperately need to be true; having faith means you know what you are telling yourself can not be proven. Otherwise, we would not need faith.. we would just know. I realize that faith is a wonderful tool for many people, but I need fact. I need proof. I need a sign that what I am believing is real. My mind identifies faith as a coping mechanism; my mind also needs to deal with life as it is, not what I tell myself it is. My mother tells me that faith grows stronger with age, and I do desperately hope that is true for me. My mind has always questioned what I have been told and sought to find answers that make sense to me. I am not certain that I will ever find the answers that I am looking for, but I will never stop trying.

I’ve always believed in the supernatural. I’ve never seen a spirit, but I’ve believed those who say they have. Psychics who can talk to the dead seem convincing, knowing things that seem to prove their authenticity.

I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life. I always viewed the afterlife as, in some way, overlapping life here on earth. Up until now, I’ve never felt so confined. For the first time since my dad’s death, I’m actually realizing that he’s gone. He is actually gone.

I’ve cried until my insides ached. I have begged my dad to let me know he is okay. I’ve begged him to show me a sign, to flicker a light, to say something.. but he hasn’t. I’ve asked God why; why do other people claim to have seen loved ones, talk with them, feel their hands around them, and I get nothing? My dad was ALWAYS there when I needed him, but not now. I begged and begged with the deepest parts of me; I told my dad that I needed to know that he is okay. If he heard me and saw my pain, why couldn’t he show me? I know if he heard me, and was able, that he would. If others can have closure, why can’t I? Is everyone else just lying to themselves as a coping mechanism? Can the dead really communicate with us? I don’t know. All I know is that my dad is gone and I’m not okay.

My mind no longer sees earth and ‘Heaven’ as connected. I see an impenetrable wall around everything that I know. I feel closed off and scared. Death stole my father and I don’t know where it took him. The past twenty-four years of my life, I’ve had my dad. Suddenly, I’m supposed to just be okay without him? I’m supposed to just accept that he’s gone with no explanation as to where he went? I’m supposed to accept that other people have talked to or seen their passed loved ones, but I haven’t? Call me selfish, but I need to have that same experience. If I can’t know that my dad is okay, then no one else should be able to have the comfort of knowing their loved ones are okay. Screw that and screw everyone else.

Until I have answers, and proof, then I’m going to be angry. I’m angry that this life is so cruel and it doesn’t get any better. We are all going to die in the end, but to go where? To just disappear? We spend our life being the best we can, raising a family, comforting friends, being charitable, making memories, spreading love, creating an identity for ourselves. How can losing the last bit of air in our lungs just take all of that away? Our body is merely a shell for everything that lies within us, so where do we go? Where does the deepest and most beautiful parts of us go? I can’t make myself believe that we just disappear into nothing. My father can’t just vanish; he meant too much to just go away forever.

How am I supposed to be okay without knowing that he is okay?

The afterlife stole my father;

My father passed away on December 1, 2015 at 1:38pm only a moment after I had read “My sweet father,” aloud; my mother was holding his left hand, and I was holding his right. He went peacefully with the two people who meant the most to him, his “girls.”

Over a week later.. This still isn’t real. I built a very strong emotional wall while caring for my father the last month and a half of his life; I had to focus 100% on his needs and had no time or energy to deal with my emotions on the matter. That wall is refusing to come down. Saying “your father is dead” is no different than saying “the sky is purple;” it isn’t real. I don’t believe you. My dad can’t be dead, because I’m only 24. I need him. He has to give the guy of my dreams permission to ask my hand in marriage. He has to walk me down the isle. He has to see me graduate from college. He has to see me be successful. He has to remind me to rotate my tires and change fluids that I don’t even know exist. He has to meet his future grandchild. He has to tell me that he loves me and that he’s proud of me. He has to fuss at me for being stubborn. He has to tell me not to get anymore tattoos. He has too much left to do.. He can’t be gone.

I need you, daddy.

My sweet father,

When words have lost their meaning,
When the light can no longer reach your eyes,
I hope you know that I am with you;
I hope you know that I have never left your side.

Mother Nature has mourned your passing;
Rain has fallen for days.
The sun is hidden behind a thick sheet of clouds.
She refuses to smile; she will not show her rays.

When God has made your final arrangements,
He will lift you up in his gentle hands.
My sweet father, you’ll no longer be in pain.
You will find happiness and peace in a magical far off land.

One day, we will be together again;
Until then, know that I love you with every fiber of my being.
You are not only my father, but also my best friend.
You will always be a part of me;
Our bond will never end.