Exactly one year ago today, my life changed. My dad,
completely jaundiced, stopped delaying his trip to the hospital and went only
to find he wasn’t able to leave and further testing was required. He went to
the hospital in Adrian late on the 6th and they transported him to
University of Michigan at 3 am. Before he left, they told him it wasn’t good. I
felt like I was standing so firmly, only to have the ground open up beneath me
and swallow me whole. My family descended into the darkness and the unknown to
fight a battle we ultimately never stood a chance against, but damn it, did we
fight. We fought HARD. I don’t think I’ve ever tried so hard to do anything in
my life.
I have Time Hop and my “memories” come up on facebook. I
realized that I will be reliving all of the emotions I felt and seeing all of
the updates I posted as this year unfolds and I am feeling a lot of emotions
about it. On one hand, I do not want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I
almost want to forget it even happened, but on the other, it gives me a chance
to see my dad regularly. His photos and videos will show up. I wish I could
stick my head into those moments and tell him, “Hey! You don’t have a lot of
time, but I want you to stop acting like you’re going to die tomorrow! You have
6 months, let’s get out there and do something with it!”
But I can’t.
A couple of weeks ago, I was laying in bed and out of no
where started thinking about my dad’s feet. They were long and skinny; almost
skeletal looking even in good health. My dad’s toenails were always too long.
He stepped on a nail in his youth and still has the dent from where it went in
on the bottom of his foot, but as I laid there thinking about them, I started
crying so hard. I don’t have a picture of his feet. I will never see those feet
again. Those feet only exist in my memory and that is a very overwhelming
feeling. I wish I had photographed every thing that seemed mundane to me. I
wish I could see his feet again.
When all of this was happening, I remember feeling like I
was in a whirlwind constantly. There was a lot of uncertainty. We were on an
emotional rollercoaster. After my dad passed, I felt like the entire world
changed and seemed different, but it took me a little too long to realize that
it wasn’t the world at all; it was me. I had changed. I have changed and I
don’t think I can ever be the same person I was. The colors in this world seem
a bit muted after the loss of someone so profound to me. I cry a little bit
more. I have experienced a loss and lived through something I never thought
would actually happen to me.
So, today begins reliving the same journey as one year ago, but this
time, I know the outcome. I know when the journey ends and I’m not looking
forward to it, but this time, I will do my best to honor and celebrate that
loss and not let the darkness consume me. I have to believe he died on
Halloween so he could come back because everyone knows the spirits cross over that day. This time, I will be ready.
Chelsea Kirchoff: Illustration
1 comment:
I am so deeply touched by your words-I couldn't have said it better. I know exactly how you feel and will relive every moment, feeling the sadness and pain. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him or miss him.
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