6 months post 2

 Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night like now, I only think of two things. Either you, or how much I've been failing as a mom/wife lately. Isn't that just a freaking sedative to go back to sleep on.

Ya know what makes me angry? When I drive past cemetery's and see posts on Facebook of people actually having funerals. We didn't get that. We didn't even hug your siblings because it happened so soon after lockdown. I want memories of you shared. I want to laugh and cry with people who you touched. I want to know that you are missed by others as badly as I miss you. I want to keep you alive. 

People try to be empathic, say yes I lost my dad to. But did you have SIX days of him on life support?! Did you hear his labored breathing? Did you see him open his eyes and not see you? Did you plead and yell and wish to everything that he just would wake up?! The 11-17th is a six month week reminder of the hell and trauma we went though in March. How am I supposed to be a good mom on my daughters birthday every year when her third birthday was barely anything. Let alone next year. How the fuck do I celebrate my daughters birthday and mourn your one year?! 

I hate this. 

I wish so badly that when I think of you I don't clearly think of your last days so vividly. I wish I could instead recall your laugh or your annoying us or just talking to us. I have videos and voice messages and I'm so grateful for that, but it's not enough. I'm happy the last words we spoke to each other were of love and our texts were fun. But my kids don't get you. I don't get you. 

Besides Tyler and the kids, you are my favorite person in the whole world. You were everyone's. It hurts soo much. Make it stop. You always said it'll stop hurting when the pain goes away so make it go away! 😭

I feel guilty when I don't want to think of you or talk about you because that's the only way I can be slightly numb to the pain and not cry the entire day. But I think of you every day. Every time I share something of the kid with mom or tys mom, I miss sending it to you to. Every time I drive up my mountain road and look for wildlife I think of you. Every time I play a game with someone and your not there I miss beating you or losing and you gloating. Every time I talk to mom I hear her pain I wish I lived closer to give her a hug. 

Thank you for being so wonderful it hurts so much but also I'm pissed your gone. You didn't even give us a warning. Fucking doctors saying you had a lung infection. 

Lastly if you could, give some karma to the cow since she's putting more trauma on our trauma year. Selfish cow. 

6 months

 Every time I think of you it's like the wound is open wide again. I don't hyper ventilate cry as much anymore, but the tears still come. I hate dreaming of you because I wake up and remember your gone. I remember my kids are growing up without their papa. It's the worst. 

I miss your almost daily phone calls, I miss your advice, I miss yelling at you that it's your turn, I miss the feel of your scratchy yet soft and actually groomed beard when I'd kiss your cheeks. I miss getting mad at your for hurting your head again and why aren't you wearing a hard hat? I miss you being the whitest person in the summer when we compared legs on the boat. I miss boating with you. I miss bringing you lunch while we all ate on the beach. I miss you. This summers been hard without you in it. We've had fun, but it's not the same. Nothing's the same. 

It's not fair. All you had to do was wake up. 

Parker said papa for the first time yesterday. I sometimes hope he isn't talking as much as he should be because he's talking with you still. You missed him walking, your missing his laughs and so much. It's not fair. 

Emerly misses you and wants to go to heaven to get you back. She doesn't scream I miss papa as much in tantrums anymore, partly I think because I've stopped crying by her. 

I think of you every day, and I just want to talk to you and you talk back. Just one more time.

I can't write anymore because now I'm bawling. So much for not hyper ventilate crying anymore. 

My amazing siblings

Three months and a few extra days since you've been gone. What's changed? A lot. A shit storm. But I need to write something positive. Anything. Because if I don't, that hole in my heart keeps me awake. It's hard to sleep.... I don't hear you gasping for breathe anymore.... when I do I can't cry quietly. Now I have new terrors keeping me awake at night. New worries.
So for now, here's something positive.

I'm grateful for my siblings and my mom. I love them fiercely. They have not always been there for me, and I have not always been there for them...but I will fight you if I need to should you treat them with disrespect of any kind. Granted, they won't let me fight you. They have restraint. They have patience. They have kindness. I don't understand people who take advantage of those with good hearts. I don't get why people say cruel and heartless things to others who still have a gaping wound in their heart due to you leaving us.

Some of my siblings are too kind. They find it hard to say no to others, they are people pleasers. I am the opposite in a way, I can say no. I want to yell and scream and go all Kung fu. Im so angry and maybe I should take up kick boxing or something because oye vey.

I miss my dads reasoning and advice. He never had a lot of words to say, but he always knew the right ones. He didn't offend people like I do.
I just want to word vomit. But I can't. You'd think this could be a safe space but it's not. If someone reads it and takes it the wrong way, the offense is created. So should I care? Maybe.

As usual lately my sentiments are all over the place. This Father's Day went to the krapper. I have yet to even make it awesome for my husband because I can't get my brain out of this fog.

So I shall listen to the Frozen songs advice on grief and "Do the next right thing" because that's really all I can do.

Also Emerly crying today and saying I want Papa back pretty much broke me again. She saw an airplane in the sky and said Papas in the plane mama. If only that were true.

Guess this is my grief journal

Two months since your heart attack.
Two months since my world went upside down, along with the rest of society. Great timing dad.
Two months of tears. Some days it's just a trickle, some days I feel like I can't breathe.
Everything is a trigger. When someone kindly says let's heart attack another person--meant out of kindness throws me into tears. When I'm watching my new favorite comedy and the dad has a heart attack and survives it... another show the dad has a heart attack and passes. Can we just not have any more heart attacks or dads leaving the earth too soon?!
Gardening sucks, working on my house sucks, hearing my 3 year old say she misses papa and his calls and my 1 year old looking at old videos smiling his head off just sucks. At least we have those videos.
Without those videos the thoughts of you in the hospital come back to me all too fresh. You opening your eyes but not seeing me. Your hands swelling with each passing day. And worst of all the sound of your final breathes. Why couldn't you have just woken up?!!!
I remember calling the emergency room and they said you were responsive. That gave me hope. How I wish I would have begged to talk to you then, to tell you we were all speeding up to see you. To be with you. Only to find out you coded...twice. So the 11th to me is your first death day, the rest was limbo hell...and afterwards it's only been hell.
I miss your phone calls. I don't like talking to anyone else. I miss playing cards with you and telling dad it's your turn. I miss stealing your iPad from you and finishing the spider solitaire game. I miss you stealing my food off my plate and sneaking me a cookie.

I'm so lost. I'm like a zombie robot. Pretending to be happy around others and my kids while simultaneously just living.

I'm so mad I love you so much that it hurts so much. To think I have to live soo many years without you and your advice and antics is the worst. I need my daddy back. This isn't fair.

People try to be empathetic and I feel like I'm so rude. They don't get it. Ok, so you had a parent die from an illness that was expected... you were ripped away from me. They have faith in the LDS teachings, and send me quotes by apostles. You were good friends with apostles and even had a blessing about working on the temple...you should have retired. Where was the Holy Ghost in that blessing? Where was the prompting to say you should spend your last precious moments with your family rather than waking up early, working late, working weekends all for your dream job you can't even complete. If an apostle can't even get that prompting what good is my faith anymore? People ask, did you eat right and exercise? You did. Probably one too many cookies but otherwise nothing to worry about. Stupid doctors who told you you had a lung infection. Stubborn you for not going back. And I hate this but I hate being mad at mom to for not bugging you more. The worst thing is I can't even change anything. Nothing I say or do now will bring you back. Nothing.

I know I've repeated these thoughts before, I'm an endless broken record. I don't know how to process what happened. I don't know how to accept that your gone. I don't know how to have patience to wait to see you again when I die. Patience is not something you taught me to have.

Last night our final round of trivia crack ended officially. I kept it going because I miss you so much. I didn't mind losing to you.

Before this happened, Em had gymnastics, swim and dance. We even did preschool together every day. Now I'm lucky if we do one day of preschool during the week. I could re-register Em for dance and gymnastics but my motivation to do that is just gone. I'd rather just soak up all our time together just playing. Thank goodness for work at home with ty. I

Be kind with your words

Wow, the reaction to that last post was unexpected. Some of it was cruel even. Definitely even reminded me of our political system right now, y'all went left or right. Sooo I think this will be my last public post for awhile.

Struggling with my religious beliefs was something that I have had issues with way before my dad died. But here's the thing, I don't hate Mormonism. I actually love the church, I think the cultural and community are a great thing. The humanitarian efforts around the world makes my heart happy. But to believe in everything is a bit hard for me and I don't understand some aspects. Like they are too mean spirited or cruel. Or just plain weird as fuck. My dads death, was the straw the broke the camels back I guess you could say. Also if you were offended by my swearing in the previous post, you clearly don't know me. I was a pirate mouth before and when I'm anxious or stressed I'm a bloody pirate all day. Yo ho yo ho a pirates life for me... except the bad eggs and alcohol.

To tell me, someone who is grieving easily my favorite person in the world, beside my husband and kids, that I don't LOVE or HONOR my dad because I choose not to believe in all aspects of Mormonism is cruel,  heartless and extremely unChristlike . Definitely not something my dad would say to me. You sirs can all unfriend me right now. I'm serious. I don't even understand how you could say that to anyone who just lost someone so dear to them. 

So as I figure out my new normal, how to live without my dad, how to have faith that maybe God isn't a complete dick... I really still think he is though. How to raise my children believing in being kind and good humans and if we want to take them to any church so they can decide for themselves is something that I ponder and think about daily. What I don't need is people chastising me during this time. Or acting like I've lost my soul or my soul is dead so they are having a funeral for me. I'm still me. 

Other reactions have been those of just love and kindness. I appreciate you soo much and I'm so happy to know I actually have friends... it's hard though for me. I was friendless a majority of my life, maybe one or two good friends but not many. My best friend was my dad. He helped me when I wanted to kill myself multiple times. So if I was socially awkward before all this madness, add social distancing and I'm an ugly duckling who has no idea how to turn into the swan. I am trying. Even when I don't want to reply to texts or messages, I do. But I need a break from Facebook. So love y'all, but unless I get a local influence offer for free food again I won't be posting for awhile. 

Lastly many of you read the last post but did not read the post before that, I think that might help some of you understand a bit where my thought process is at. So I'm linking it here http://jennicaspot.blogspot.com/2020/03/faith-shaken-not-stirred.htmle 

God is a Dick.

What do I even believe in anymore? I really was fine with death before. People died... and I was like ok, they are in heaven. Babies died, and I would be like ok, they were too good for this earth. I got that bad things happen to good people.
I still can't understand or comprehend why this happened. I can't even process the whole COVID stuff very well either because I'm still trying to process this.
It's been over a month and I can't even be a good mom half the time. I haven't taught Emerly preschool for awhile, she misses it. I'm barely keeping it together just playing with the kids. Few days she sees me cry and tells me to stop. She doesn't get it. She doesn't get that she is missing out on the best person ever. Parker will never really know him. It's so unfair.

I will never forgive God for this. I'm stubborn, and I will hold this grudge.
My dad was the best. I miss him soo much. I still cry almost every day. I miss his phone calls, I miss playing games with him, I miss talking to him about how to deal with other people in the family, I miss asking him for help and telling him he needs to teach Tyler how to do it.

This is my therapy at the moment. Just writing thoughts down. I don't like talking to people. They say, I'll pray for you. Fuck that. No offense but what prayers helped my dad? None.

His premature death that ripped him away so cruelly from our lives has broken me.

So I've been thinking a lot about my religious beliefs. I stopped wearing garments. I don't feel right wearing them anymore. I don't like the idea of three degrees of heaven. I believe in a God, who is really a dick---seriously, have you seen the world lately?? Besides not giving a shit about one of his most loyal wonderful humans ever, have you read the freaking news? Anyways... I also believe in an afterlife. I have to. I don't believe in karma.

What else I believe in, to live kindly and care about your fellow humans. To serve others. To love everyone. I believe in taking care of your body.... but even when you try you'll still have a gigantic ass heart attack so you might as well eat the ice cream.

Anyways... therapy session done for today, now if the tears can stay at bay till 5. That's when Tyler's off work. How I would manage without him working from home to take Emerly for lunch is beyond me right now.

Faith shaken not stirred

It's been two weeks since my dad had a heart attack. Mind you, he had more than one that day but not the point. And I'm angry and confused.
My dad was a great man. He helped everyone. So many stories have come out of him going out of his way to help others, and it doesn't even surprise me. He was Christlike. He loved going to temples with my mom. They wanted to go to as many as they could. He LOVED building temples for the church. He supervised the building of the Vernal Ut temple. I remember going to his house there in the summer or on breaks and finding grasshoppers. Seeing the dinosaur park and eating at what he called a "hole in the wall" cafe. I honestly looked for a hole in the wall when we ate there. My dad decided this last year that instead of retiring he would accept his dream job of supervising the historical restoration of the Salt Lake temple. He went to temple sessions with those involved. He would wake up before the butt crack of dawn and head into Salt Lake.
He  was also trying his best to live a healthier life. He went to the doctor for an ekg a month before and they told him he had a lung infection. He bought an exercise bike for indoors. In good weather he was always biking around anyways. He ordered chicken instead of a hamburger when he went to Red Robin with my sister.
And yet....
He had a heart attack he couldn't wake up from.
He was responsive when he went into the ER, but the heart attack in the cath lab...was too damaging.
I yelled at him to wake up. I pleaded with him to stay for my kids. To stay for me.
But he wasn't there. I knew it when his eyes would open but they weren't looking.
I'm so angry.
What good are ekgs? What good are prayers, fasting and living correctly if you can't get a Holy Ghost to prompt you to go to the doctor one more time?! If anyone had soo much good karma to finally be owed a miracle it'd be my dad.
Instead I see an old guy with a beard smoking in the parking lot of the hospital every time I left it holding his IVs and draped in hospital gowns. Why does he get to live?!
I find my dads patriarchal blessing and it says if you honor your parents you'll live a long life. Bullshit. He honored and would help his mom every time she needed it, not to mention his love for his dad.
I couldn't even bring myself to go to my grandmas funeral which was the same day as my dads but earlier because I'm soo mad that she got to live longer. For as long as I can remember she only wanted to die. She would give us things and say, here I won't be here next month how about you have it. Or she would call my dad up to give her an end of life blessing, she even woke up in the middle of the night the night before she died and said, "I'm still alive?!" Seriously.
She just sat on her couch. Ugh... she was a wonderfully nice woman and grandma, and normally I'd be sad or resigned to the fact that she's gone... but today, I'm just pissed at her.
The last time I hugged my dad was Parker's birthday. It's not fair.
He just had to wake up... even just for a little bit. But no, he was ripped from us and we went through limbo hell.
I know I can't change anything but I'm so mad.
What good are prayers from apostles if nothing worked?

So yeah... That's where I'm at currently. I'm angry and confused. I cry every night. The world keeps going crazier and I'm like cool let's just ride this thing with our hands up now and no seat belts on because does it even matter anymore?! During the day, I feel like a zombie with my kids. I'm trying. I have to act happy with them because ignorance is bliss on their part and they really don't get it. I am getting a lot of distraction with a garden I'm attempting. The person I'd ask for advice for is gone so we'll see how things work out. Gosh I miss him. Parker saw a video of him with Emerly and started to stick out his tongue at him. They would do that forever on FaceTime. Freaking FaceTime... can't save or retrieve those videos.

On the plus side... because again, I am trying... people are wonderful people still. So thank you to anyone who is still being nice to me because I know I'm kind of a stick in the mud. I don't know how to move on from this, I don't know how to regain any faith from this. My dad was my rock. I know bad things happen to good people blah blah blah... but whatever.

Hardest week of my life

I was going to post on Facebook, just a blurb but then I'd have to deal with comments and likes and what not. I'm not quite ready for that so hopefully this will suffice any questions or curiosities that people may have. Also I apparently only blog on major occasions.
March 11th, I get a call my dad is being rushed to the hospital because he passes out. I find a wonderful friend to watch my children and start to go. I called the ER, they tell me he is responsive but had a heart attack. I drive for what feels like forever to University hospital. I go to the waiting room and I see my oldest brother crying. That's not right. Brandon doesn't cry. Brandon is strong and makes fun of everything and hunts and can cut people up and put them back together. Brandon doesn't cry. I knew something was wrong before he said papas heart stopped beating and they did CPR for 45 min. They are now trying to place a stent in. Basically I lose it. I'm still losing it, but more quietly. Less of my sister asking me if I need medication.
They got the stent in, but it wasn't enough. His brain didn't get the oxygen it needed and when he was simply supposed to wake up....he didn't. He just got worse. So began the limbo hell. Do we wait it out to see if there is any chance he wakes up? Do we let him go because we know he doesn't want machines attached to him? Hell. Straight up.

So today became St. Papas day.

I'm going to miss you soo much. I'm so angry right now, and scared and beyond depressed. It physically hurts how much I miss you already. The worst is my kids won't get to be played with by papa anymore and Parker didn't get a nickname from you yet. I only have two pictures of you and Parker together, luckily one set are live so they are like mini videos. You FaceTimed him all the time and just stuck your dang tongue out at each other and Parker would point at the phone and laugh and laugh. Freaking FaceTime doesn't save videos. We should have Marco polod but let's be honest there was only so much technology you could handle. You were so excited to get an iPhone you FaceTimed Emerly almost every day for two weeks. Sadly, Emerly is a stinker with phones so we had to limit her FaceTime with papa. I'm so sorry. I'm so mad at myself for so many things. Like why didn't I call you back Tuesday instead of waiting for you to call? I was planning on calling you Wednesday night after you got off work.

I'm a daddys girl. Always have been, always will be. I took his opinion on who I dated more serious than he probably thought. He would always say what about TyTy whenever I would go on a date with a guy while ty was on his mission. He loved teaching ty how to do things around the house. Who do I ask for help now?! You were basically a living google. We didn't even buy our first home without you walking through it and saying yup this is a good deal. Ya know what, it was. We lived there for seven years and barely did anything to it till we decided to move. You helped us redo the deck by using your old treks from when you redid your deck with new treks because why waste a good thing? . I didn't get your walkthrough opinion on our krap house before we bought it because I figured you'd help us fix it up. Seriously, do you know how much work is left to do?!

I guess I get to rummage around your shop aimlessly trying to figure out what will help me. You built moms house in the shape of an L for her name. Such a freaking romantic, we loved watching Ever After together. Or cutting edge, overboard, basically any romance sappy movie we'd watch together. When I had depression you were there. When Tyler left on his mission we watched Tron and transformers and you played cards with me all the time. Idiot, rummy (you'd always go for the aces), nopeeke, crazy 8s, speed. Gin rummy. Sequence game nights with mom. Whose going to be on Tyler's team now?

I never needed lots of friends because you were one of my best friends. I could always depend on you. It never mattered what I did you always loved me. I think you yelled at me maybe twice... once for sticking food behind the fridge and mice got in the house. You always would check my room for spiders because I was terrified of them.

Going to RC Willeys with you to get a hot dog and nothing else was one of my favorite activities. Of course if we saw a yard sale or something with a really good deal we couldn't pass it up. Like the one time we went to X Men together and came home with a motorcycle... it was too good of a deal to pass up. Or when mom bought her the Kia and two weeks later you bought her a Honda because it was such a good deal. Or whenever you came home from grocery shopping and bought the weirdest food and cereal because they were on sale. Always browsing KSL for good deals, goodness it's a good thing you didn't know how to Facebook marketplace.

I'm sorry I bought you Jazz tickets to a San Antonio game... in San Antonio... I blame the other siblings for trusting me hahah.  I am so grateful we were able to send you to Alaska for your 60th birthday but I'm sad you didn't catch that salmon you always wanted to catch.

You are the rock of the family. Whenever I argue with Terra or Brandon you are my reasonable sounding board and you bring us back together.

Who else is going to have elephants rumble under the table with me? Everyone actually cares about not farting around people. We just tried to out stink each other.

You taught me to serve others, always try to shovel snow from peoples drive and do it with a four wheeler. Secret Santa families because we have been given plenty. You didn't teach me how to deal with this pain. Your favorite saying was it'll stop hurting when the pain goes away. I don't think it ever will.

This is enough for tonight. It's a good thing I'm typing otherwise these words would be smeared with tears. Sorry this is all over the place.