The Fifth Anniversary/My Reality

So I'm feeling ignored by friends and rather emotional at the moment. Not exactly emotional per say, but having inner turbulence, definitely. After all, it is five years to the day that my dad died. My dad is dead. It's the final state of all who walk this Earth, and the sound of it feels very final, no matter how you phrase it, he's still gone. I don't often reflect on my father's deceased status, because he and I did not have a daily ritual, therefore I don't have little bits missing out of every day. Nope, I get to experience all of Life's big moments while missing my dad instead. That's the trade-off. Either an every day/weekly thing, a sort of mourn in passing that eases over time, or; have a wall of confused grief suddenly well up and full frontal smack me during the biggies. I've already missed my high school graduation, him terrifying my first few boyfriends, and keeping me centered on school.

Not only won't he walk me down the aisle, I'll never have a father-daughter dance at my wedding, which has partially contributed to my decision that I'll elope when my time comes. Here's the kicker - I had the song picked out since I was 14; Butterfly Kisses. Guess what song was playing the first time I turned on a radio after he died? Yep, you guessed it. In literary circles that's called irony. He's never going to beam at my college graduation, when I finally get a hard-earned degree. I'll never have my financial advisor father to turn to with money and investment questions when I'm a little older. What really is going to hurt is that he won't be there when I'm pregnant with his grandchild. He won't be there to guide my husband through how a pregnant wife should be treated; he'll never be able to ask if I want his chair instead. And he will never play with my dimpled children, or pass on his infinite knowledge of nature and hunting to them. Each November I turn my mind away from grief, and yet come every October, that grief bubbles up to spring anew.

My reality is that I don't have a dad. And if it weren't for modern technology's invention of the camera and photographs, I wouldn't be able to see him. I can't remember what he looks like, in my head. And his voice? forget about it. My mom was suggesting home movies but I vigorously shook my head. That'd be way too emotional for me. Some things you need to keep buried.