1 year later....

 Captains log, it's been 365 days since your body was still with us. Today marks the anniversary of when we as a family decided it would be best to turn off the machines keeping you alive. You would have agreed. You never wanted to be a burden to anyone. If you had Alzheimer's like your dad you always said you would go to the mountains and disappear. 

But you also said you would get twinkled. You never said you would go unexpectedly. Or be in ICU for a week. It feels more like you really died on the 11th... and then till the 17th it was a roller coaster of hope to pain and absolute trauma. I wish that upon no one else. So the last week has been a wash of emotions from consciously trying not to think of you at all to remembering how much I freaking miss you and how much it hurts to think about your last week of "life". 

Great now Chicago's Inspiration is playing on the random playlist for the kids and I am bawling. I miss singing or listening to this song with you. Going to RC Willeys for free hot dogs or just hanging out in your shop. Even RC willeys is demolished now. Sometimes I like when your songs come on and sometimes I hate it. 

I'm still bitter and angry. I hate how we couldn't have a normal funeral or even a birthday party for Emerly and there was only 50 cases in Utah at the time. But one year later and we had a big birthday party with just family. Which being in Utah is still big. I hated seeing people this last year have weddings or funerals. I have a hard time when I see someone clearly older than you were and in worse health and they are still alive. I feel terrible for hating literally every single person over 65. I get mad at people for being alive when your not. I get annoyed at people I actually do like.  It's not fair, and you liked to remind us of that all the time, life isn't fair. 

Today I got freaking spoiled by a friend who also lost a parent. What a disheartening thing to connect us forever. Literally she made the day soo good that I started worrying about my siblings and who was taking care of them today. It's been a hard year. 

Parker knows you. He knows your voice because of videos and he knows you because he sees your picture and says papa. It KILLS me that my kids won't remember you. It's not fair. They should be giving you double arm hugs and I should be yelling at you for scratching their face and making it all red from your bearded face kisses. I miss yelling at you that it's your turn. I miss your daily calls. I miss your advice. I miss complaining to you. I miss you. 

I had a dream the other night and you weren't dead in it. You were alive and I hugged you and then I had to go. It was the worst thing to wake up to. I wish I knew I would see you again but I only hope. I'm broken. 

I can't go to your grave site still. I drove past it the other day and had anxiety before hand because I knew I had to. 

I also hate that I feel like your siblings don't give a krap about us. Like I knew we were the not most liked family I guess beforehand, but becoming an adult and seeing how I love being in my nieces and nephews lives really bothers me that none of my aunts or uncles on your side ever cared to do anything with us ever. I love seeing my siblings care about my kids and Tyler's siblings really dote on all their nieces and nephews. Maybe it's a generation thing. Or maybe it's the parks hold grudges over the stupidiest things like teasing and need to just stop. Maybe it's covid just making the relationships grow further apart but it's ARGHH annoying as fuck y'all. All of it. 

Anyways I'm also pissed that my iPhone deleted your messages to me. Luckily I have them screenshotted and saved but still... I cried. It was just like another part of you disappeared forever. I want my daddy back. I doubt the pain will ever go away but I find that when I don't think of you, then I can function like a human being instead of a zombie. That's how much it hurts. I can't even bring myself to think of you. Today I have, today I have cried. 

My other friend had her baby today. She's a wonderful person. I won't post this publicly because she will feel guilty for something she can't control. That's how great she is. She's really quite endearing. I wish I was like her. 

Something I never thought I would have is good friends, and look here I am talking about two of them. Another two messaged me today and that was just so nice to be thought of. 

You were my best friend for so long. And yet you also were gone a lot of our lives working. So it hurts you didn't even retire to spend time with your family. You would have hated retirement. Always needed to be working, and the thing is my house has soo many projects I would have kept you busy and the kids could have enjoyed their papa. 

So now I will do my best to not think of you as much, so I can be present for my kids. I love you. I miss you. 

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.