Twenty-Two Years

I cannot believe it has been twenty-two years since I last saw you.

Twenty-two years since we last spoke.

Twenty-two years since you left this world.

Twenty-two years without you.

 

I was ten years old.

I am now thirty-two years old.

Twenty-two years.

And it hasn’t gotten any easier.

 

And I wonder……

Are you proud of me?

Do you know how much I miss you?

Do you know how desperately I wish you knew my children?

Do you know that you were my best friend?

 

IN MEMORY OF VIVIEN M CHAPMAN NOVEMBER 3, 1912 TO JANUARY 31, 1990.

 

 

Thursday Truth – Old Posts Stir Up Hurt Feelings

I have removed myself some from the online world.  I do some things still; I try to continue to write on my blog (for me more than anything because it feels good sometimes just to get it out), I still use facebook, I tried to get back to twitter but I just can’t keep up with it (especially now with work).  I enjoy Pintrest, GetGlue and Klout; although not being as active on the internet and in social networking atmospheres probably doesn’t give me much of anything in any subject or topic area.

I hadn’t opened my reader in I don’t know how long.  Probably not since the last time I blogged while I was still living in California, and well that post wasn’t exactly one of my finer moments in life.

“You have to take responsibility”

“You have to own your words”

“You have to own your feelings”

“You have to learn to blame yourself, redeem yourself and forgive yourself for the things you have done/said/wrote/blogged/texted/etc. whatever they may be”

People don’t really understand how hard that is to do, especially when depression is playing a role; not unless they have been down that road.

The blame, hate, rage, misunderstanding, sadness, emptiness, loneliness, anger. It is misappropriated, flung on to people when it is really yourself you feel all of those things about. Flung on to people you love and care about and then it just batters them down until they can’t take the beating anymore. Why? Because it is easier to blame then to take responsibility.

Back to the reader….

I open the reader and see a gazillion blog posts that need to be read. We are talking haven’t looked at this thing in over a year’s time. I have now limited myself to the few that I actually care to read.  I took my reader from 126 blogs down to 18.  I lately have been more of a lurker than anything else, there are times I intend to comment and don’t.  Why? Fear perhaps. Maybe because I feel what I have to say makes no difference. Because I don’t want to be just another “comment on the page”.  I am not sure why I don’t comment when I want to….ok it is fear.

As I was weeding down my reader, I was going back to blogs and reading missed posts.  Going back sometimes as much as a year because I haven’t read the blog in that long. Laughing at things, smiling about others. Crying over some. Amazed by how a lot of these bloggers write.  Jealous because I don’t write as well or keep up with my blog like I want to. Envious, even.

But when you read back through old blog posts, you sometimes come across things you don’t want. Stories of death, bad days, hurt feelings. Stories that make you, yourself face truth. Posts that hurt because you know they are directed at you even though your name is not used.

And tonight that has opened up a whole new set of feelings for me.  A part of me I thought I had put behind me. Feelings that I thought I had gotten past. Hurt that not only emotionally hurts but physically hurts as well. Loss. Feeling broken again. Broken, a word I said I would not use about myself again…yet as I write this I feel so broken.

I don’t know how to fix what did or didn’t happen. What has or hasn’t happened. I don’t know how to fill in gaps and holes that are so large they swallow me whole.

I want to reach out. I have tried to reach out at first, not as much as I should….not so much anymore.  And that pains me because I want to. I feel I should. But I don’t know what good it will do. And when I do and there is no response, complete ignorance of the attempt it just hurts. And then the broken comes back.

I miss what was there, more than I can ever explain. More than I knew I would.

And the hardest part of it all?  I did this.  This was all me. I caused the hurt, I caused the pain, I caused the confusion, the mistrust. Now I have to learn to live with it.

Yes, I have an illness and it has taken me some time to truly understand that illness and control it not let it control me.  There are still times that I can feel it taking hold and sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to let it take over. I use to say I didn’t want to be defined by it, yet I used it as an excuse every chance I got. I hid behind it like a coward. I used it to excuse actions, behavior and words of mine that I didn’t want to take responsibility or acceptance for myself. I allowed it to be an excuse and I allowed it to control me. That was me, not the illness.

I don’t know if I can ever truly apologize for what happened.  What I do know is it was my fault, and mine alone.  I said those things, I behaved that way, I made the choices, they were my actions; with or without the illness, all of it was me because I allowed it to happen.

I truly am sorry, after all this time has passed I still am not able to forgive myself fully because I damaged something that was so special. Now I have to live with that. I don’t expect to ever be forgiven because I can’t even forgive myself for that, at least not yet. I miss you.

Happy Birthday, Daddy (7-24-11)

This post should have been posted on the 24th of July which would have been my dad’s 87th birthday.  This post, however, was on a USB key I have been taking to work so that if I do personal things at work I could put them on the drive to bring them home.  I password protected that key so that if I left it at work or someone else got a hold of it they could not access the files on it.  I forgot the password until the other day and then that password ended up being wrong as well.  I finally remembered the correct password today….so here is the post that was supposed to be a letter to my daddy on his birthday.  I miss him so much, may her rest in peace.

 

 

July 24, 2011

Dear Daddy,

Today is your birthday.  You would be 87 years old today if you were still around.  Hard to believe it has been almost twelve years since I lost you.  I miss you more then you could ever imagine, or maybe you can.  It is hard every day for me to see other people with their dads or complaining about their fathers, because I would give anything to have my daddy back and with me.

I suppose you know that I have three children now.  Robert is fourteen now and starting high school.  I know if you were still alive that would floor you as you were there when he was born.  I am glad you got to see him but so wish you were here to see Alexander and Samantha.  I think you would have gotten a huge kick out of Alex, he is quite the little boy.  Very much into “military” and boy things.  He is so smart.  Samantha is sassy as can be.  Mom says she is a lot like I was when I was her age.  She is a beautiful little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes and I am sure she would be grandpa’s little girl if you were still here.

Some things have happened in my life that I wish I could have picked up the phone and called you or just had you there to turn to.  Today is an anniversary of another major event in my life and I am sorry that event happened on your birthday.  Maybe remembering it was your birthday contributed to what happened that day.  I never meant to dishonor you.

Bill and I still keep in touch.  We email on occasion and call (usually play phone tag with one another).  We use to talk weekly, every Wednesday but that got harder when we made the move to California cause of time difference; and now with me working and Bill working our schedules don’t always match up.  I don’ hear from John at all but then we never really were the “sibling” type where we?  And Janet I think has pretty much ignored the fact that I am even here.  Things have happened with her that I am not happy with and I tried but you can only try so much before you break because you just can’t put forth the effort when it isn’t returned.

We moved back to Sebring, and every day I have to remember that you aren’t here in the place I consider home for me to call or for the kids to see or to invite to dinner.  I wish you knew Richard better but am glad the two of you had the opportunity to meet one another before you were gone.  Mom and I have had our moments but I love her and I know she loves me.  And I know she didn’t handle things correctly but Jack was not a bad guy and he cared about her, and me and the kids.

I wish all the time that I could just see you one more time.  I didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as you were.  I thought I had time to go back to Houston and make arrangements to come back with Robert.  I thought you would come out of it and I could get you to come to Houston with me.  I thought that maybe, just maybe I’d have you for a little while longer.

It is hard to lose your daddy at twenty.  I know that is not what you intended and I accepted when I was about fourteen that I would not have you forever or as long as perhaps some of my friends would have their dads but I really thought I had more time than twenty years.  And maybe it is selfish of me because I did have that time with you but I feel cheated as well because I wanted so much more.

Happy Birthday, daddy.  I love you and I miss you.  I hope you are proud of me; and I know you are watching over me.

 

Love your little girl,

 

Kelli

30 Days of Truth – Day 4-5-6

Day 4: Something you have to forgive someone for.

I need to forgive anyone I have hurt.  I know that might sound selfish, and in many ways perhaps it is but there is reasoning behind this.

You see when you hurt someone; whether it is done intentionally or not, whether it is done because of reason or none, whether it is done in sickness or in health, whether it is done when you are of full sanity or on the brink of insanity; there seems to be preconceived notions and misconcepted thoughts about you as a person.  These lead to people thinking or believe that you will continually be that way, do those things, say those things or act a certain way.  Even if it has happened only once, and you have apologized, the ever lingering feeling of, “you are going to do it again” is always there; and I need to understand why that is and forgive them of that feeling, because after all I am the one who placed it there.  The feeling of mistrust, of walking on eggshells, of tip-toeing around things because you are afraid of what might happen again can be strenuous.  I need to forgive people for feeling that way about me because it is not all their fault, it is mine for making them think, feel or believe that is the way I am or the only way I can be.

But you see this is hard for me to do because I wonder…if I was sick with say cancer or lupus or fibromyalgia…and I said or did things like I have with my depression that have hurt people; would the pain still be lingering?  Would they still be walking around me like I am fragile and might break at any moment?  Would relationships stay destroyed?  Would friendships still be ruined?

 

Day 5: Something you hope to do in your life.

One of the biggest hopes I have in my life for right now is to go back to school and finish my education.  I had started on a track for the medical field.  Every time I tried to return to school; which has happened on three different occasions now; I have ended up pregnant….and well frankly that isn’t going to happen again so this is one hope, one wish that I know I can make a reality.  So within the next 3 months I will be returning to school, starting back on the medical track and with-in 15 months have a CNA license.

Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.

Something I hope that I never have to do is watch any of my three children have their hearts broken.  Unfortunately I know this is going to happen, probably with each one of them.

But, if I had to pick one particular thing I hope to never have to do it would be to see their hearts broken; because after having mine broken as bad as it has been, I hope that it never happens to them.

30 Days of Truth – Day 3

Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.

Something I have to forgive myself for is for hurting the people I love either with my actions or my words.   I have to own these actions and words as they are mine; even if some of them happened during episodes of my depression when I wasn’t medicated properly or when I was on an “episode” as they have been called.

Unfortunately, I have been quite ugly and mean when I have said and done some things, and it wasn’t always intentional; and unfortunately, sometimes it was.  There were times that I convinced myself of things that were not true but for whatever reason, I believed that they were even if the proof of them not being true was in front of my face.  There were also times that I was just so low on myself that nothing seemed right or perfect and it felt like it was easier to just give up.  I know now that is a coward’s way out.

But I have figured out that until I can fully accept these misfortunes that I have brought upon myself; and make amends with the people I have made them upon, I will never be able to forgive myself.  And believe me it is hard to accept these things because I know that I hurt people I love and care about.  That was something I never meant or wanted to do.

The Small Things That Remind Me

When I was twenty, my father passed away.  My dad was fifty-four when I was born, so he was older than most of my friend’s fathers and I accepted at about the age of fourteen that my dad was not going to be in my life forever, but I guess I always thought I had more than twenty years with him.

The last ten years have been hard on me without him around.  My children will never know their grandfather, they will only know the memories I have of him; and even some of those are diluted with the years that have passed.  I wish my daddy was here to hold my little girl.  I wish he could tell his stories of being in the Navy and World War II to my middle son.  I wish that my teenager could have him to talk to like I did.

Things always remind me of him, and I think about him and miss him every day.  I wonder every day if he is proud of me.  Would he be happy with the path I have taken?  I often think sometimes when a problem comes along; what would my dad do or what would he tell me to do?  He is the one who encouraged me to move to Houston, even when I was having doubts.  He always told me to take chances.  One of his favorite sayings was: “Never be afraid to ask, because if they tell you no; what have you lost? Absolutely nothing, because you didn’t have it in the first place.  But if they tell you yes, you have gained everything.”

Lately however a lot of little things have really reminded me of my dad, and I wonder if it is his way of letting me know he is there, that he cares, that he is watching over me; over us.

• Like watching a favorite TV show of ours and one of the main characters’ fathers dying.

• Like being out and about, and hearing someone say, “BILL” and wanting to turn around and see my dad standing there.

• Like flipping through the channels of TV while in a hotel room and running across Saving Private Ryan which was the last movie we saw together in a movie theater.  In fact, he liked it so much we went to see it three times in the movie theater.

1. Like my husband picking randomly Who Framed Roger Rabbit for us to watch as a family of all the movies we have.  I haven’t seen that movie since my dad took me to see it when I was the age of my middle child.

• Like being at a friend’s wedding and losing it emotionally when she and her dad dance to the father/daughter dance.  Knowing that I will never have that, nor would I have ever had it because of my age when he passed.

• Like wanting to punch someone square in the face when they complain about how much of a douche bag ass hat their dad can be when in all actuality of it, their dad is THERE for them…yet they don’t take advantage of the opportunity they have to spend time with him all because of a stupid disagreement.

• Like when my kids tell me that their friends were talking about their Christmas breaks and Christmas Days; and how they spent them with their families including their grandfathers.

• Like turning on my computer and signing into facebook, and having a message from a group I belong to (that happens to be our family name) when I haven’t visited that group page or had a message from that group in over a year.

• Like my brother calling me on Christmas day and seeing I had a missed call from Bill (our last name), which happens to be what my dad’s name was.

• Like having him be involved in some aspect of dreams I have had over the past month.

It’s hard when you are reminded of the person you love that you have lost daily.  Especially when you have no real reminders of him.  My sister got most of his stuff, and was supposed to equally share it with myself and my two brothers, but that never happened.  She even has his ashes…which as morbid as it may sound; I wish I had.  I have no place to go for him….I have nothing but the memories that we shared and built together…And even they are starting to fade and become diluted with time.

I miss you, daddy.