Well I haven't posted in awhile. It's crazy how life flies by but there are moments that seem to drag forever... My last attempt of a post:
On August 3rd at 7:30pm I got a phone call from my mom, saying she had some bad news. I immediately thought that maybe Taz had died, but then she told me that my father had passed away earlier that day. I was completely shocked. I didn't want to believe it. I began to feel very regretful because he had been trying to call me a lot in the last year, but I always felt I needed to time to talk to him. He was always full of stories.
I paused on that last part. My parents divorced I believe when I was four. My father wasn't always in my life but growing up I had always blamed him for that. I saw him maybe a couple of times a year. It didn't really upset me as a child...as a kid I just remember anytime we were with our dad, he drove really fast and told lots of stories. He would just talk and talk to complete strangers...but he always had a quirky spunk to his stories. I became angry with him after Cody died because I felt like my father should know about something like that happening in my life. But he didn't know and he wasn't there when I may have needed him. I didn't ever see him make an effort to be in my life....but the truth is he did. I have this immature nature to get scared when someone unknown is at my door. I don't ever like to answer the door...especially if I'm home alone. But there were a few times I remember as a youth somehow knowing that my dad was at the door and we just didn't answer. I am very ashamed of this, I regret this...Anyway it was hard to communicate with my dad. He would call and it would be really hard to get him off of the phone cause he would just talk and a lot of it sounded like far fetched stories, you could barely get a word in. I used to feel lying wasn't so bad because
my father lied to me all the time..I've been lied to majority of my life by him (maybe this is why I don't really trust easily? ;).
I feel this is a cop-out though. About five years ago my father was diagnosed with schizophrenia and all of a sudden all of his lies made sense. I became less angry with him. I tried to call him here and there and I felt good after and he sounded really happy to hear from me. But talking to him was like talking to a wall sometimes....you would tell him something and he would go off on some story. I remember a few times feeling like I should call and talk to him but feeling like I couldn't get a word in anyway...I wish I hadn't had this negative attitude then.
The last time I really remember seeing him was a couple of years ago. He called to see if I wanted to go to Village Inn cause he would be in town. So we went out to dinner and I had a real fun time with him. He always tried to give us gifts when he saw us. Sometimes they were funny gifts....like he tried to give me a cell phone but the one I had (that I bought) was much cooler...I had to gently decline and say I didn't need one. He did give me a bracelet that has the words love, daughter, forever. I'll be honest, I thought it was pretty but it was cheesy and I didn't ever wear it. Sadly, after hearing about his death....I was thankful for that bracelet. I was thankful to have a small piece that reminded me of him. Cause the truth is...his death made me realize I shouldn't have been mad to the fact that I didn't have the "common" father experience with him. But I am thankful to have the little pieces that we had. He created me, he gave me a name, he loved me and I love him.
I'm happy he is no longer hurting. He wasn't that old, but he had been sick majority of his life. With rheumatic fever as a youth and numerous heart operations...I feel he didn't get to live a long healthy life like he should have....and I should make an effort to do that for him. He got in a car wreck a few months prior and I was told his legs get pretty beat up and they got infected. My grandma Lichfield tried to get him to go to the doctor but he said he didn't want to go because they were just going to cut him up. The next morning she found him dead in his home. We went to this home after the funeral (he lived down in Toquerville) cause he had apparently left us some things. He was so cute...it appeared as if he did all this online/tv shopping for us. He got us a shake-weight, sheer minerals makeup, chop wizard and just a bunch of different things that you see on tv. It was really hard to be in his home. We were told by my aunts that we could go through and take what we want. I felt uncomfortable with this...it felt weird in the house and then I had a little cousin making it worse cause she kept asking me if I wanted (this) cause if not she wanted it and I wanted to scream at her and tell her to go away. I did a few times but she came back. I left with a few things and just felt weird about the whole situation....it was very stressful to see my dads things carried away by a bunch of people...it made me wish I had known him here....all these things shouldn't have looked strange and unfamiliar because they were my father's things. It made me think of all the crap I have...and how I shouldn't value as many objects as I do...I should value the people I have in my life. I shouldn't take anyone for granted. I should never be afraid to tell someone they are loved. I want my father to know I love him. I want him to please forgive me for having the attitude I had towards him. I am half of him...I hope his fun spirit can live through me and part of him will always be with me.
