Spill

Disclaimer: This is going to be long because apparently I’m just writing. It’s also all over the place in some areas. Also, not checking for grammar/spelling so…if there are errors, forgive me. 

So, something weird happened to me recently. My father died. Even weirder is that he died on the same date that my mother did four years ago. Just…weird. Right?

I’ve been thinking about deleting my blog lol Not sure I see the point in it anymore, yet here I am writing in it. Which, of course, probably means it’ll be around for a bit more. I suppose it’s not too bad to have when I want/decide to write in it. I don’t HAVE to. And when I don’t, I still enjoy being able to interact with the blogs of those who I follow. Which can be more difficult if I didn’t have this account. 

Oh, another weird thing. The day he died, I was supposed to be leaving to go see him. I actually would’ve been on the bus to see him probably 5 hours after I got the call. Spoke to him…not the day before, but the day before that. My friend and I went to the Christian bookstore near campus because I mentioned I wanted to buy him a new Bible. He said he needed one with large print…but it was too expensive, so I said I’d buy it online and have it sent to him. I didn’t have anything else to bring, but then I remembered that my father and tea were definitely an item, so I was also going to bring him this red mug that had the name of my school on it. I thought he’d like that. I put it in my suitcase…left it in there until I had to leave for the funeral.  I was all prepared…stayed up until 1am or so packing because I pack at the last minute. Made snacks for the ridiculously long bus ride and went to bed. Randomly woke up and that’s when I saw a missed call from Uncle and a text from my sister. Then my sister called me again. 

Funny how the deaths of my parents were so similar.

Both times my sister was the one who told me, crying so hard.

When dealing with things with my father, things have always been a little different. I’m the oldest. I have to take responsibility and be in the front and all of that. Which is fine, it was something I did anyway…always see her as my “baby” sister, despite us only being 13 months apart. But with my father, I guess my role as the eldest child was more pronounced. Again, which was fine. So I told my sister I’d call her back and called my uncle to find out what happened. 

Both times I was going to see them soon. 

With my mother, it wasn’t as close, but it was before Christmas break. I think the week after I probably would have been on my way home. And obviously with my father, it was that day. 

Both times I was going to graduate the following semester. First, with my B.A. and now with my M.A. 

Clearly, since the date was the same, both were close to Christmas. Puts a damper on things, as you can imagine lol 

Both times it came out of nowhere.

I won’t list here what happened to each because I don’t feel like it, but…when I say came out of nowhere, I don’t mean that one can necessarily be “prepared” for death. Even when someone has lived for years, it’s still a heartbreaking ordeal. I just mean it came out of nowhere in the sense that we either didn’t know they were sick or it literally was a random occurrence. Both, I suppose. 

Anyway. Yea, but it’s weird now. I think I wrote about it before, how when my mother died, my sister and I felt like orphans. Our relationship with our father, at the time, wasn’t the greatest. We were definitely closer to her than to him, so despite him still being around, we felt like we had no one except each other. That was 2009. In the years that followed I think my father tried to do better. In some ways the relationship, at least on my end, still seemed strained, but there were days…minutes…where it seemed we had a pretty good relationship. So that’s good. I think my sister felt the same way too, which is lovely. But now…she said to me, “we were destined to be parentless.” It sucks because things were looking up with my father. I was looking forward to seeing him…hadn’t seen him in a couple years. According to some people at the place where he was staying, he was excited about me coming. They were supposed to set it up so we could have lunch together one day. He’d laminated one of my graduation pictures I’d sent him from when I was in undergrad. So before we felt like orphans…but now it has become our reality. I just didn’t think I’d be thinking/saying/feeling/writing that word…that becoming part of my identity, who I am…at 25 years old.

I had more I wanted to write, but…I need to get some sleep today. Until next time.

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