I tried to write last night, but I thought my anxiety would cause my writing to be even more grammatically incorrect then normal. As always I did the play by play of the night before my Dad died. Every year I do this silently in my head. WHY, WHY after 22 years do I still do this? In my head around this time I go back to being an eleven year old girl. And on the 17th of November life was how she knew it and the very next day all things familiar was gone.
I know I've written about the day my Dad died. You can go read it if you haven't already.
Right now as I type it is Nov. 18th 8:10am, we were still in the emergency room in 1986. Right this very moment I was sitting in a small room with a window in the door that looked into the room across the hall. I know now it was an unused triage room. I was looking out the window starring at a foot that was uncovered. It was my Dad's foot. I sat there crying, overwhelmed with emotions. I didn't finish writing about that day. And I am going to try and do that later today.
Last night the count down left me awake until just a few hours ago. I kept this year silent, not even telling Thanh about the replay of events running through my tired mind. I wanted to somehow crack the case, so to speak. As the day moved past the typical Monday at school stuff. I came home and did home work, snack, played outside. It gets cloudy around here, I try to focus but it's like trying to get HBO with Bunny ears!! Before Dad left for work that day I do remember very clearly him hollering at me to clean up my room, it was a mess. And I remember looking down at the ground and him telling me he was serious. My Dad didn't punish me often, but when he did it was feared. Mostly because I admired him and looked up to him sooooo much.
When we used to pick him up at the docks after being out to sea. I would watch him come down the metal stairs with a huge bag of laundry on his shoulders. He was in the Navy & I was so proud of him. He was so strong and magnificent in my eyes. Invincible is a word that comes to mind. He always came safely home to us. But, I think it was 1984 when they made him step off the boat, no more for you. His ticker wasn't right, stop the smoking they said. I wish that I would have been more like I am today, a nag. LOL Thanh will tell ya!! I just wish that I would have been old enough to say be healthier, stop smoking, take care of yourself for the love of heaven! Who knows maybe I did, but my controlling powers were not in full force yet! LOL
Anyway, I remember cleaning my room, but being mad at my Dad. I have forgiven myself for the many "child like" attitudes and thoughts I had that night. I also remember being in bed that night. I was on the top bunk and I can smell the new mattress smell even right now. It was a new bunk bed that had a desk and dresser underneath. The window let in the light from the outside streetlight. The light always seemed to bounce off my sheer curtains and glow. It was almost the early morning light that I love so much. I wish I could remember my thoughts. I was supposed to get up early the next morning to go to dress rehearsal at school. I was going to be in the nutcracker musical. Can you believe I still preformed in it just 3 weeks after we buried Dad. I was so sick and didn't want to go, but my Aunts said I should do it for Mom and Mom said I should do it for Dad.
So, last night I was in bed and I didn't want to go to sleep. It was like I was scared. What can I do now, I can't save him. I can't go back in time. But, every year I do the same thing over and over. I pray that when I die my kids do not torment themselves the way I do. But, I know that my control issues cause me to believe that if I would have done things differently maybe he would not have died. Now in my sane mind I know this is not possible, so you don't have to send in the men with white coats just yet. But, the hopeful, little girl in me is terrified and clawing at any possibility. I can't seem to snuff the little girl out. Maybe I don't want to. Maybe she is my link to the past, the way I can remember. I don't want to ever forget them. It scares me, because I don't remember what their laughs sounded like. I can't hear their voices anymore. All I have is some pictures and silent memories left.