My Pop

My pop was a great guy...my hero.

Thursday of this week would be Daddy's birthday if he were still here.  He would have been 73.  He left me way too soon.

I've been feeling really dark because of this anniversary and a few other things that have happened recently.  In the past, I would've curled up next to Daddy and bawled my eyes out into his shoulder.  I cry alone nowadays.  I don't have a man in my life that I can trust enough to do that with, not like Pop.

I know I should be happy.  He's in a place where he isn't sick anymore, where he's younger, perfectly healthy, with sight in both eyes.  Pop was really sick for the last 2 - 3 years of his life.  He was a shadow of himself.  Even though he was half of the man physically that he was all my life, he was still Daddy.  He was still my rock, my comfort, my protector...the one person I knew I could confidently turn to when I was down and feel comforted just by being hugged.  His deep voice was weak from being sick, but I could still hear it.  Now I can't.  It was taken away.

My mom tries her best to understand me and to offer comfort when I feel like this, but this week is hard for her too.  They had been together for almost 54 years, married nearly 50 years when Daddy left us.  Mom really misses him also but for different reasons, of course.  Sometimes she will look at his picture and say "Damn you for leaving me, Jim!" and my heart breaks, because I am usually thinking how angry I am that he's gone...still very angry.

I know everybody goes through this kind of loss, though it may not be this soon, or it may be much sooner.  Everyday, something will remind me of what I've lost because of the death of my father.  Sometimes the memories are so strong, they nearly knock me over.  Normally I deal with it very well, but occasionally it gets to be too much.  I might seem strong but dealing with this grief still makes me feel weak.  

I am trying to remember he would not want me to go on like this...that I should keep moving forward, enjoying life.  For the most part, I do, but every now and then, the wind in my sails dies down and I'm sitting in the open water wondering "Where the fuck do I go from here?".  It has been one of those days...one of those weeks.

Where do I go from here, Daddy?