fortress

What is it?  I don't know why.  Will this ever stop, probably not.  Your princess remembered cave time tonight.  You would nap and she would watch a show under the covers with you right next to her.  As I picture that I see her sitting under the blanket, but in my mind she's sitting on your side of the bed, not really your side anymore.  It's now her side of the bed. Maybe I can't picture you there because this mattress that was meant to bring you comfort and relief from pain, never did.

You truly never comfortably rested in this mattress.  You slept in the chair, a lot.  I so wanted to lay next to you, the couch had to suffice. I did lay next to you one final moment, once everyone was gone.  All the tubes were removed, the devices in place to make you comfortable all removed so our daughter could say goodbye, and remember you not with all those tubes, but at peace.  I still remember the moment, saying your name, waiting for that next breath.  Making the phone call to have your princess come to the hospital.  She still talks about diving for rings when you died.  The night before, Friday,  we had our final book group, really just a social gathering.  People came, brought food, we talked, people came to see you.

I remember telling my brother he had to wait before he came in that awful Saturday morning.  I know I hurt his feelings, but it had to be done.  She needed time with me in there just the three of us, one last time.  Finally, after everyone left and decided to go down stairs I laid next to you one last time. Then I had to get up and leave you.

A Saturday five years prior I had to make a phone call, he answered and all I said was "she's gone", then the next call I made was to you, though you already knew because you heard the house phone ring.  There was no removing the tubes for my Dad, she was just gone.  The two people she loved the most in this world were there next to her as she drew her last breath.  I felt so bad leaving her there, all crumpled and tubes every where.  I felt like I abandoned her, there was no sense of peace, she was just gone.

I don't know why this is all flooding back to me now.  I just realized my Mom's birthday is on Sunday, maybe that's what it is.  I do not know.  This all started with your princess missing you something fierce today.  She really struggled tonight, I think when she talked about it she felt better.  I took her pain and tried to comfort.  Here I am talking to you.

I know I should try and reach out, but it's still hard for me to ask for help.  I don't want to be a burden and be selfish.  I don't want it to be about me all the time.  Thanksgiving is also just next week, I sure hope I'm not slipping into a crevice, a place where I shut everything out and enter survival mode, hide in my fortress.  I don't want to be in my fortress, but it's safe there.  I really want to share the holidays, I just don't want to share this misery.

I love you handsome man.

take care,

your words

I came across the list tonight.  The list I've been told about, the list that our daughter's babysitter had.  She promised to give it to me, just as soon as she found it after her move.  She's all grown up now, and your princess is more and more grown up as well.  Funny thing, the list has not been found by said babysitter and yet I've discovered it on my desk.  I don't know how it got here, I've never seen it before in my life.  I nearly threw it away, I was decluttering the desk and there it was.

You wrote this list when our little girl was seven years old.  A list of books you felt were important for her to read in her life time, "probably in her last few summers before going off to school" those were your words.

I sit here and read your words over and over.  The two lists of literature. A total of 24 works.  Reading and literature was such an important aspect of your life.

your words still haunt me and bless me all at the same time.

Lists aside, it is a pleasure every day to see her delve into books, to swim in the pages of some great story, or to be able to read aloud to her or to watch as my wife reads to her.  

Reading can be an act of love, one of the most pure. 

I plan to collect these 24 works of literature, hopefully some of the titles are still part of the collection of your books down stairs.  I will make this a gift for your princess along with your note, a graduation gift from her Daddy.  When you wrote this you were thinking eleven years into the future, now it is only eight.  Time does not stop, tragedy, joy, sorrow, excitement, everything keeps going. 

For me it felt like life stopped in 2015, my life did stop.  My life became an existence. I awoke each day and took each breath for our daughter; put one foot in front of the other, let each day start and each day end.  

Today I can say I'm living and not just existing.  Time does not stop and I'm looking forward, embracing each new day, maybe even with a little pepper in my step.  

love you handsome man. 

take care.