The Hardest Post Ever...

I have literally sat down to write the hardest phase in my life a dozen times. It's like nothing but imperfect rough drafts of a chronological life that has gone awry.

Where I felt relief, I feel almost empty or anxious. It's an odd feeling and only those who have gone through the exact experience may actually know what I am talking about. 

The process of watching a loved one slip away so quickly that you don't process it even after its all said and done. 

I've been in the denial stage for 10 months...

While standing in a show room full of caskets with my sister. It was that moment where I realized that I couldn't be more adult then right then and there. I felt as though I aged over night. I couldn't call dad and ask his absolute opinion on the simplest things anymore. 

That moment where I stared at my phone and reflecting from the last text on my birthday 1 week prior while looking over my shoulder at him saying "I love you" as he looked up and gave me that cute shy grin. Only realizing while looking at my phone, if I called he wouldn't answer. Because in heaven there are no direct phone lines. 

I feel a sense of peace, but I've become more anxious and sleep has become less and less. Even if I do sleep, it's not long enough to actually feel good. Depression and all the different stages of grief are just steps to processing the way humans are programmed. 

I rather not feel anything. Being numb was more simple. 

My stage has been anger. I'm stuck in anger. The part where I reflect on the past 3 months has just griped me so bad. So much inside me wants to scream and just tell dad that he left so much undone. We lost a certain glue that held this family together. 

I know with time I will heal. I have a lot of support from all over and I cannot have gone through this without my family, friends and second family from work. Words of encouragement, sending me notes or messages or calling me to check on me was by far the kindest things people have done. It means a lot to have such a strong support system. Even the flowers I see everyday and the the sentiment of such things, reminds me that I'm not alone in such a big world after all. 

My fathers funeral marked the end of a long 10 month battle he held onto for dear life. Every day he fought it harder and harder trying to continue to be strong not just for himself but for the rest of us. Everyday he said "I just want a good day". 

We gave dad two awesome days. The first weekend in April family came to Wyoming. We filled the house with love, food and the people who made dad proud, happy and loved. 

That weekend we kept dad up way past his bed time. We had a bonfire and sat out in the snow, drank beer, laughed until our stomachs hurt, froze together. Had dad smiling and joking with us. Telling stories that won't ever leave Wyoming. 

That was the weekend dad needed. He needed his family more than anything. I am forever grateful to everyone who joined us. Who took the time out of their busy lives to be with their uncle, brother and second father. I feel like he could finally rest.

In the end, as he took his last breath and his heart stopped and I held his hand. The moment I had prepared myself for, will forever be engraved on my heart. Those last few seconds I had with him were the last, and they mean more to me because he was my dad. The only father I will ever have. 

I promised myself I would be their for him in the end. In a room that felt entirely too small, the moment where it was quiet and he went in peace, was the moment I was finally at peace.

My aunt called his passing

"A blessed death"

I couldn't agree more. 

R.I.P

DDC

❤️