checking in

Last week, this happened. It was happening while my siblings were on their way to my house for the weekend. So, I was busy cleaning my apartment and blowing up an air mattress while shoppers at my neighborhood grocery store were being randomly stabbed with a kitchen knife. I didn't hear about it until the next day and when I did I realized that it's never taken me that long to hear big news like that before. I should have received a phone call from my dad during the local news asking me if I had been stabbed. But, I didn't. Nobody worried about me or wondered if I was ok. While things like that happening in my neighborhood are always sad and disturbing to hear, this was the first time it had made me feel completely alone.

It's been getting easier to get back into the swing of things and live life day to day, but the pain isn't subsiding. Little moments like this one remind me how much I'm missing without him, sometimes several times a day. And I still have moments where it seems impossible. That there is no way I am never going to see or speak with my dad again. In these moments life feels too long and extremely empty.

I always loved getting those check-in calls from my dad when he was watching the news, but I didn't realize just how much of an impact they had on me. As the only single and childless sibling in the family, it's very easy to feel lonely. My dad's calls reminded me that I wasn't alone and that I meant the world to him no matter what my circumstances were or where I was. I know that I still do, and I know that he is watching over me, but it's a difficult thing to feel. My feelings are all being used up by sorrow and grief.

hands

every time I look at my hands, I see my dad. they are one of the many features I inherited from him. short and stubby, tough, not very lady-like at all. they are hands built for hard work and my dad used them that way his whole life.


my dad used his hands for lots of different types of manual labor. he did things like construction, gold mining, gardening, home repairs, hunting, rocking out on the drums, auto mechanics, and of course, rocks. digging rocks up, washing them, cutting them, polishing them, and gluing tiny pieces of them back together with his magic glue. having his hands, I have often wondered how he was so good at all of this. I find myself very limited in so many things because my fingers won't fit into small places or maneuver well around things. but, I know I can because my dad could, so I keep on trying.


my dad also used his hands to torment us. he was famous for thumping our heads pretty hard when we were in trouble, or just when he wanted to get our attention or get us riled up. he could also do crazy things to our arms and legs that caused intense pain before we even knew what happened. he sure got a kick out of that. he was unbelievably strong and could crunch our knuckles in with no effort and send us falling to our knees begging him to stop. as much as this would hurt or annoy me, I loved the joy and smile it brought to his face and his little "neener-neener" type of giggle it caused. 


he also used his hands to tickle us. whenever we left a hand dangling somewhere, an armpit exposed, or a foot dangling out from under the blankets, he would tickle. and sometimes he would just tackle us and tickle, tickle, tickle all over until we could no longer breathe or fight back or had farted. yes... farted. that always got the whole house involved and laughing hysterically. if we were lucky though, the tickling would end by us getting him to massage out some knots in our back or neck. it hurt like hell, but did the trick.


but, my favorite thing my dad did with his hands were the pats and squeezes when he hugged. he would pat or rub your back just to add that little extra touch of love he knew we needed. and if I was ever standing by his side he would bring his hand around my back and up to my shoulder for a tight side hug and extra squeeze on my arm. everything my dad did with his hands was a way that he showed his love. I hope my hands will do the same. 

31

in two days I will be celebrating my 31st birthday. I've dreaded birthdays before, but never like this. 


my dad was never good with birthdays or any other significant dates. even holidays. he always knew when it was getting close, so he would just call you whenever he thought about it. so, some years I would get a call a day or two or three before my brithday, and some years a day or two or three after. one year he called me on amber's birthday and when I told him it was her birthday, he still didn't call her for a couple more days. it rarely happened on my actual birthday. and every time I would just laugh and say, "thanks dad. I will pretend today is the 11th" 


so, every year at this time I would be expecting a call from my dad at any moment. and for the first time in my 31 years it's not going to happen. there isn't much I wouldn't give for just one more conversation with my dad. the one-sided conversations I have been having with him have been good, but lately I have been really needing some solid reassurance from him. 


one thing I am sure of is that I would not be the person I am today if it weren't for him. and I can honestly so that 31 years in I am very happy with who I am. I couldn't be more proud than when I notice characteristics in myself that are because of him. I love you, dad. and I hope I am doing you proud.

get a clue

I was driving home from work the other day pondering some recent developments in my life when I heard my dad's voice loud and clear say, "christa, get a clue!" and just like that I was looking at everything from my dad's perspective instead of with my emotions. as a side note, and I will go into more detail about this in a different post, when my dad talked to me like this he would pronounce my name CHRITTA in a very goofy voice. that is what I heard.

I'm a girl. that's the excuse I use for letting my emotions rule my decisions and plans. but, I do know that I can change that. my dad was the most logical and calm person I have ever met. he is the perfect example of smart and level-headed decision making. I wish I had a vocal recording of my dad saying "get a clue!" so that I could play it to myself every time I started getting emotional and stressed out. hopefully my brain has it stored securely enough that I will be able to hear it for the rest of my life. my biggest fear is that things like this will start to fade...

one smart and lucky girl

during my last grief therapy session we focused on bringing my best memories of dad out of hiding. this one was so good I had to immediately write it down so that I can go back to it whenever needed.

as soon as I graduated from college I packed up and moved to DC. it was my dream and I could not wait to start living it. I loved it there. it felt right. I was happy. it was the best two years of my life. but, suddenly one day it hit me like a ton of bricks that I needed to move home. the idea came out of nowhere. I intended on living in DC forever and I was very happy about it. but, once I realized that I needed to move home to be with my dad, the thought wouldn't leave me alone. it was like a cancer taking over my thoughts. so, I left my dream job, packed up my car, drove across the country and moved in with my dad in St. George.

during the 9 months or so that I lived there we had numerous long talks, pep talks and other education and philosophical adventures. I cherished every single one of them. but, there is one that stands out in particular. I was cooking dinner for my dad and brett and there was a history channel show on in the background about the historical and scientific accuracy of the bible. so, naturally, my dad and I were in a deep discussion about religion, history, science, the bible and philosophy. I both loved and hated these conversations. hated because I rarely presented arguments that my dad couldn't immediately quash. and loved because I learned so much from those conversations. I learned how to adequately speak my mind, a bunch of history, and a ton about my dad.

near the end of this conversation, just as I was plating his dinner, my dad looked at me and said, "this is why you're my favorite. you think for yourself, you aren't a sheep. and you're pretty damn smart too." ...in that moment I felt more joy and love than I ever have in my life. if I never heard a compliment again, I would be ok. he believed it and so did I. he loved me, and that was all I needed. life was good. and I was the luckiest girl in the world.

uncharted territory

For quite a while there I thought I would never post on my blog again. But I suddenly find myself in uncharted territory and in dyer need of somewhere to write about it. Writing has always helped me figure things out. It's a way to wade through the huge mess of thoughts and feelings that are overtaking me and using up all of my energy. There are things I think, but don't quite understand and things I remember and never want to forget. So... this is my place.

For the past eleven and a half years I have lived every day on edge waiting for my worst fear to come true. On January 20, 2012, my father passed away and that fear was realized. Now... everything is different. I am a different person. My life will never be the same, and I am still trying to figure out how, what, when, where, why... It's all confusing.

I was very lucky. I was able to live the first 30 years, 9 months and 9 days of my life with the most amazing father anyone could ask for. I am who I am because of him and I learned so many things that I have yet to take advantage of. I need to get it all down, burn it into my memory, never let it die. And then I need to live a life that would make my dad proud... This is what I resolve to do.