I feel like I should write a post about the recent events in my life, but I also feel like anyone who reads my blog (all two and a half of you) already knows.
Then again, I feel like in part, I write these journal entries for myself as much as anyone else. Though they are open to the public, this is still a diary of sorts, and I occasionally comb over old entries and reminisce. It is a place where important life moments should be recorded.
And heck, maybe there is a silent watcher out there, transfixed by my life. And if there is, stop being creepy and speak up.
As recent blog posts will reflect, my life of late has been hectic. My boyfriend of nine-and-a-half years ended our romantic relationship. Though we remain friends, we no longer live together, and I have moved into my own apartment for the first time, with all the terrifying responsibilities that entails. My poor little emergency car has given up the ghost for the second time, leaving me bumming rides, bussing or on foot until I am able to take ownership of the Prius. Along with moving, I had been trying to get at least one piece ready for the art show in which I was invited to participate. I have been given huge projects to do at work, things that were on tv and stuff even.
All this was put aside, however, when, last Tuesday I was informed that my dad, who had been declining fairly rapidly since early summer, had taken a turn for the worse in the night. As quick as that, everything else was set aside as arrangements were made to try to get me out in time to tell him good-bye. I explained the situation to my boss, I got a friend to feed my pets and I threw a couple changes of clothing into a backpack. Around 9pm I was informed that my dad had passed away in his sleep (as an old family friend pointed out — quite unlike him), but that the arrangements were still on and I should spend the time with my family. At 3am on Wednesday, I boarded a shuttle to the airport.
I feel like I should say ‘this was a horrible trip and I cried the whole time.’ I feel like it SHOULD have been and I should have. The fact was, though the circumstances were sad, the trip was kind of wonderful. I feel horrible for saying so, but it was — I certainly cried some, and was sad at times…but I got to spend days with my best friends and my mom. It is almost as though my dad’s good-bye present to me was a chance to be around people I loved at a time in my life that was stressful and lonely, but I was unable to get home on my own.
If that was your intention, thank you daddy. I’m sorry you weren’t able to stay long enough for me to see you, but I am sure you had somewhere more important to be. I hope you are partying like a rock star, surrounded by hot chicks in skimpy outfits. I love you.