grIef
g.r.I.e.f.
Well that explains a lot.
All day, this looming feeling of dread.
Tears.
Sadness.
Tightening in my chest.
I'm normally in bed by 10pm.
It's 00:40 and I'm on the sofa doom scrolling. Totally not like me. I was just about to force
myself to bed, but checked to see if I had any early AM appointments. Saw this
... a flood of memories from that phone call just returned in a flash.
Middle of the night. My ringer was off, as it always is. Except for certain numbers. We all have loved ones with permission to disturb our sleep.
It was Mary. My Dad's partner. My Dad was in the emergency room...
Dying.
January.
2021.
"COVID is a hoax. Don't fall for that sh**," he told me just a few weeks earlier when I asked if he had been tested since he sounded so sick.
He was unhealthy - in every possible way. I loved him anyway. Not because he earned a good fatherhood award, but because... Well, who the hell really knows why. I still don't.
Overdose?
Maybe. I loved him
because he kept trying.
No, he actually didn't. He abandoned me
and abused me, and left me with more childhood trauma than any little girl should have to overcome.
Maybe... because ...
Why am I 5000 miles away listening to the beeping of machines keeping this man alive?
Do I give permission?
No, I never gave permission. What kind of question is that to ask a daughter?
Searching here for reasons why I would love.
Him.
Have I forgotten? Surely there was something.
My grandmother loved him. That was reason enough for me to love him too, I suppose.
Yes, let him die. Pull the plug.
Time of death: 1:06
My time.
For once do something on my terms.
Remember it on my terms.
Forgive on my terms.
Not forget...
Heal anyway.
I loved him, despite.it.all. I loved him because I learned to be strong and fierce, resilient, courageous, and stubborn to the core when it comes to justice for women and children BECAUSE of people like him.
And now, here I am. Time: 00:54, looking at the calendar after a day of feeling most unlike myself...
And I see it.
The end.
