Coming up on three years ago my father “passed away”. He went to a better place, is no more, ceased to exist, relinquished life, went with God or however you would like me to so sensitively put it; my dad is dead.
I went into the office today and found what I gave my dad two summers ago for his last Father’s Day. “50 Reasons Why a Daughter Needs Her Dad” A tin accordion style list of reasons I made, and number one was: “To make her smile when she wants to cry.”
Although I don’t find an ounce of him being gone humorous, I find myself cracking what I have come to call “dead dad jokes.” Ironically, no one laughs except me. (and sometimes my best friend whose dad died when she was young too.) I create an awful, awkward moment, which we have to linger in until I collect myself, apologize and explain.
For example when talking about the upcoming Father’s Day weekend, a friend asked what my plans were. I responded nonchalantly, “I don’t have many big plans, I mean my dad’s dead so I don’t really do that anymore.” My laughter continues to disturb them, but I’m only chuckling at their uncomfortable expression and lack of response.
Sometimes a simple, “How are you?” can get an unexpected, “Fine, I woke up today and my dad was still dead, but I’m having a really good hair day,” reply.
My “jokes” aren’t really clever or extravagant. I just bluntly bring up the fact that my dad is dead in inappropriate settings. I WANT people to talk about him and ask about him. So I make it clear that it is ok to bring up the topic, I won't burst into tears or start rocking in the corner. If I am the first to "cross the line," then the rest of the conversation is a breeze. I have this overwhelming urge in my heart that I want to introduce my dad to everyone I love. I don’t want to forget where I come from and I want them to know him as well. Because saying, “My dad is dead,” only refers to his physical body.
My dad is more alive than many Earth-walkers I know. He still lives in my ability to laugh instead of cry when I think of him. He lives when I am helping others, giving second chances, hoping for the best, when I buy ice cream, when I fix my car, when I do a jig with my aunts, when I compare boys to his generosity, his know-how, his kindness and ambition.
The very molecules of my dad’s blood were composed of love and laughter, the same blood that my heart pumps through my veins. That is why I want to think of laughing when I think of my dad, even if I make EVEYONE uncomfortable. Even my friends who have been there since he was sick, still shake their heads when I make a comment.
I guess I have dealt with “the death” of my father. I don’t think about his the funeral or his sickness or pain. I just miss my dad and I think about not having him around anymore. So I keep bringing him up like I’m scared I will forget. In doing so, I forget the sensitivity others have to the deaths of their own loved ones, I can be inconsiderate with my dead dad jokes, forgetting that I’m not the only one. It’s an adjustment I am working on. I apologize if I have or if I will push the wrong button for you. Chances are, I will.
I will probably grow out of this strange way of dealing with a dead dad. I realize that even reading this blog is uncomfortable and unfunny to most. For now, it is working for me. I’m making a selfish decision to stick with my #MorbidTweets and awkward conversations until I am better at telling his stories.
Because this is my way of “making the complex simple and the painful bearable.” Just as number 12 says on my list of 50 Reasons Why a Daughter Needs Her Dad. I have to do it for myself because oh, did I mention? My dad is dead.
I know you are probably tired and your eyes are sore from reading this long blog on the computer screen, but hey, at least your dad's not dead.
7 comments:
Oh my God....when did he die? :) Love you sweetie...though that might make you smile :)
thought...not though :)
Yup, my Dad is dead, too...and my Mom. They both died too young. My dad at 64 (I was 37). My mom 6-1/2 yrs later. She was 68). The bad part for me was that my dad died suddenly. I never got to say, "goodbye" or "I love you" or make a list of reasons why I needed him. My parents were both the youngest of their siblings...seems unfair, but all their siblings have outlived them by at least 20+ years. Two of my dad's sisters are 93 and 94 and still going strong! (one that is 94 is on Facebook!) Gosh, I would have loved another 25-30 years with my parents.
Anyway, like you, Sadie, I make jokes. Not out of a need to accept or adapt to my loss, but because it's fun and my dad had a dry sense of humor. He loved to laugh. People tell me I got my love for laughter from him...I like that. So, when people ask me things like what I plan to do for Father's Day, I might say, "nothing, haven't heard from my dad in 25 years...no visits or phone calls...how rude!) May shock some people and sound a bit crude, but I know it would make him smile and in an odd way, it makes me remember him and stay close. I'll miss my parents forever...but I know I'll see them again one day.
guess i finally understand why you make those jokes now, and i realize you said that you're scared you won't remember, but you won't ever forget him. and i promise next time you crack a joke i'll smile or say something in response instead of sitting in the awkward silence that usually occurs (:
Why dont you blog for Midland Daily News....
Sadie
Such an apt description when you portrayed your dad as love and laughter. That is Joe to a tee. He was wonderful. I still miss my dad all the time. I wish he was here to go to the movies or to have dinner with me - or dance or laugh. We had so much fun. When he died I felt him with me very strongly for at least a year.
For 25 years or so he had given me a subscription to Reader's Digest every year. When he became ill with dementia and lost his short term memory he forgot to send the magazine for the last two years of his life. He died in December of 2001. The next spring I came home from work and got the mail on my way in the front door. There in the mail was an issue of Reader's Digest with my name and address on it. The date? May 1 - Dad's birthday. Never received it again after that but I knew Dad was still thinking of me and loving me.
But my dad is dead. XD
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