Tick-Tock

Before you get too excited to read about my oh-so-fascinating life, be warned: this post is going to be pretty personal and discuss death. If that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. Go look at cute animals or my much less serious tumblr instead.



me and my dad only weeks before his death

  On January 7th twelve years ago my father died. Death, especially the death of a loved one, has a way of affecting you for the rest of your life, and the death of my father is something that will probably affect me for the rest of my life. But after twelve years it's not something that affects the day-to-day living of my life. I don't wake up every morning and think to myself "Wow, this day sure would be better if my dad wasn't dead." Obviously everyday would be better if my dad wasn't dead. But he is and I've had twelve years to come to terms with it. Twelve years is more than half of my life-span and I don't plan on spending the majority of my life agonising over something I can't change.

So I've come to terms with the fact that my dad died a long time ago. Most days I don't even think about it. There's been some days where I've forgotten that, oh, yeah, I only have one living parent. So it was a huge surprise to me this year when I woke up on January 7th and thought "It's been more than a decade and I still miss him." Obviously I still miss him. He was my father. I loved him and will always still miss him. But missing someone in abstract and waking up consciously missing someone are completely different things. Especially when that someone's face has faded from your memory and their voice is no longer one you recognise. It's hard to miss something or someone that you can barely remember.

Waking up that morning consciously missing my dad was hard. It's certainly not the best way to wake-up and did not lead to a very productive day. It might have just been an excuse, but I don't think I bothered getting dressed that day. But as hard as spending the day actively missing my dad was, it also was nice to spend some time thinking about him. Like I said, it's been twelve years since he died so he doesn't exactly play a large role in my life anymore. For that one day my dad was at the fore-front of my mind and it was surprising how much I enjoyed having him play some role in my life. Spending the day with my dad on my mind might even be something I start doing every January 7th.

It's funny that I'm writing this, though, because I usually scoff at really personal blog posts. No one online actually cares that your dog only has three legs because he saved you from a burning building or that your second cousin twice removed just told you he hates you. And if they do, they don't want to read a couple hundred words about it. Unless you're a celebrity or your blog is explicitely personal, I feel like really personal posts scare off readers. But I think this is an explicitly personal blog. I am writing about me and what makes me tick and the death of my dad is a large part of that.