Thoughts After Cancer

April

I keep looking for you in other people and they always disappoint me. It isn't fair, but I can't seem to help it. I feel so uncertain and lost. My emotions are alien to me. I just miss you, Dad. Help me to get through this.

May 2013

I remember this:

You carrying me on your shoulders when my legs were tired. You making me calm when I was sad and afraid. You being silly in the kitchen and making me laugh every single day. You telling me I was beautiful. You in pain and crying because there was nothing that could be done. You holding me in the hospital when I cried because you wouldn't be saved. You fretting about the shitty cat in secret and acting like you didn't care and then falling down the fucking stairs trying to rescue him from the rain. You taking care of mom because you loved her better than anything or anyone on earth. You laughing with Rory in the living room about boy jokes I wasn't allowed to hear. You hiding cakes from the rest of us. You shouting at the TV. You watching football in secret. You singing silly, made-up songs. Them cutting you. You lying there when I found you. You whispering "I love you too" on the monitor. You teaching me to tell the time and tie my shoe laces and telling me to trust my instincts no matter what.

I'd love to see you again, to have a chat, to tell you how much I love you, to ask for your advice, to tell you not to fuss and would you like something to eat, it's no trouble, Dad, I'll have some too if you eat. I miss you.


June 2013

Today I just don't understand.

I don't understand that I will never see him again. That he is gone and never coming back.

I looked at photos of him - his face that I know as well as my own. And I'll never see it again or hear his voice. There's just silence now. I know that if in fifty years time I heard that voice again, I'd know it instantly. The recognition of a part of myself; the constant from each day on my 26 years on earth.

Six months since he died and I'm waking up. Slowly, the reality is becoming real. Everything we went through and what death means.

No one explained it to me. They said, "It's going to be tough". That was the word they all used. "Tough" doesn't cover it. It didn't then and it doesn't now. "Tough" doesn't cover the exhaustion, the suffering, the piss, the shit, the vomit, the pain, the drugs, the tears, the humiliation, the loss of hope and knowing that whatever I did in the end I couldn't save him.

Here we are now. All that hard work. We tried so hard, fought so hard. Prayed so hard. Anything. Everything. It didn't matter, he died anyway.
Oh God anything to ease his pain. Anything to give him a moments peace. Any wrong he did in his life he atoned for in his death. Crying and apologising. It's okay dad. Poor baby, it's alright, we love you.

June 2013

Today it hurt a lot. I made a sound I didn't recognise, like a wail. I called for you over and over. I believed my heart and the pain were so strong that you'd somehow appear regardless of physics and biological matter. How could you not when I needed you so much and you loved me so much?
Will I wake up one day and be fine? I don't see how? Will this mark me forever? You can't forget the pain if you love someone. How long did you mourn for your mother, Dad? A year, you said. I can't see this all being better in another six months. That would mean I am at the half way point and it feels like it's only just begun. I must have been sleeping my way through grief. Now I'm waking up to this unbearable pain and there's no one in the world who can save me from this heartache.

I rang the Samaritans today after you didn't appear. The woman said it was just something I had to go through because of how much I loved him. Unavoidable. No one can stop it. One day at a time, kid. One moment. If you need to cry, just cry.

Happy Fathers Day. I miss you, Dad.


July 2013

It's a shame that our last, precious moments were so frantic and full of pain. They argued in the last two weeks. Those two weeks were the hardest. He deteriorated so quickly. Each day brought a new crisis, a new blow. She was trying so hard to save him against all odds. She fought so hard every single day; so desperate and bargained till the very end. He said he'd be dead soon anyway. As always he was right.
I wish our last year had been more peaceful for him. I wish we had been able to be calm and serene. But we were so afraid. So desperate. We fought with death. What else could we do?


August

Today I talked about the bad times. God I love you, Dad, and all is forgiven, but there were bad times too. Too many drugs. I used to be afraid of you when I was small. You were volatile and unpredictable then. Not like the man you were in the end; calm, gentle, loving. I miss you. I'd take all the anger and fear if it meant seeing you again.
You were flawed, like anyone. Such a selfish, damaged young man. But I loved you so much. So much. Daddy's girl.

I have treated myself carelessly. Now I am trying to be kind to myself. I've never done that before. I am trying to see myself the way you saw me. That is all I can do now.