My Father died and I don't now how I feel.
My father died and I don't know how I feel. I've cried because that felt right and I've used a lot of profanity because that always makes me feel better in my life. There are so many things wrong with the death of my father I don't know where to start. Excuse me if this is disjointed and hard to follow. You don't have to read it but my friends, I do have to write this!
I was at work today and my sister called. I could not answer because well I'm at work. My break was soon so I listened to her voice mail which was basically,"Call me please." I could hear in her voice how important it was I call back and she called again while I was listening, I clicked right over. She said can you sit down, which I knew meant bad news. She said Dad died. With those words, everything changed but yet nothing did. We both kept saying over and over that we didn't know what to do. What do we do? What do we do?!? Then came the way she found out, via the internet. She was looking up the obituary for the Worcester firefighter who recently died. There was our father, Donald E. Blanding, aged 82, Shrewsbury, MA. Okay so that sucks, but, he died 8 fucking days ago. 8 FUCKING DAYS AGO!!!!
To say our relationship with our father is strained would be an understatement of ginormous fucking proportions. The nicknames we had for him included Papa Diddler and if that don't say it all, nothing does. Some how we get screwed out of the closure that his death should/could/would bring? Maybe it wouldn't, but that's a choice we should have gotten to make, not him and his partner/victim. WE DID NOTHING WRONG!
Like my Mother's death, which opened a whole can of crazy in my head, his death is doing the same but in different ways. I do believe in God and I believe that now, his true judgement will come. Finally he will called upon to answer for the crimes committed against his children and other children. I believe he will have to see all the atrocities he has committed through the eyes of his survivors. I believe he will have to feel the pain that his survivors felt and continue to feel. All the abuses will come back to him and then what? That's where I am lost. Then what? What does this mean? What does this mean for him? What does this mean for me? What does this mean for my brother and sister still with me on this Earth? What does it mean for the two sisters in Heaven already? What does it all mean? I once prayed for this day to come, a wrongful prayer but one prayed none the less. The day is here and I am at a loss. I thought I would feel relief, or more relief than I do. I did say out loud at least no more children will suffer at his hands. I've talked with my brother and sister and we all reacting differently, my sister and I more closely resembling each other in words and actions. My brother offering a reprieve from the craziness in his earnest,'Oh shit thought you were calling me with bad news."
I know I will revisit this soon, because I'll have too, there's too much left unsaid. But for now, I really honestly don't know how I feel about my father's death. Thanks for listening.
I was at work today and my sister called. I could not answer because well I'm at work. My break was soon so I listened to her voice mail which was basically,"Call me please." I could hear in her voice how important it was I call back and she called again while I was listening, I clicked right over. She said can you sit down, which I knew meant bad news. She said Dad died. With those words, everything changed but yet nothing did. We both kept saying over and over that we didn't know what to do. What do we do? What do we do?!? Then came the way she found out, via the internet. She was looking up the obituary for the Worcester firefighter who recently died. There was our father, Donald E. Blanding, aged 82, Shrewsbury, MA. Okay so that sucks, but, he died 8 fucking days ago. 8 FUCKING DAYS AGO!!!!
To say our relationship with our father is strained would be an understatement of ginormous fucking proportions. The nicknames we had for him included Papa Diddler and if that don't say it all, nothing does. Some how we get screwed out of the closure that his death should/could/would bring? Maybe it wouldn't, but that's a choice we should have gotten to make, not him and his partner/victim. WE DID NOTHING WRONG!
Like my Mother's death, which opened a whole can of crazy in my head, his death is doing the same but in different ways. I do believe in God and I believe that now, his true judgement will come. Finally he will called upon to answer for the crimes committed against his children and other children. I believe he will have to see all the atrocities he has committed through the eyes of his survivors. I believe he will have to feel the pain that his survivors felt and continue to feel. All the abuses will come back to him and then what? That's where I am lost. Then what? What does this mean? What does this mean for him? What does this mean for me? What does this mean for my brother and sister still with me on this Earth? What does it mean for the two sisters in Heaven already? What does it all mean? I once prayed for this day to come, a wrongful prayer but one prayed none the less. The day is here and I am at a loss. I thought I would feel relief, or more relief than I do. I did say out loud at least no more children will suffer at his hands. I've talked with my brother and sister and we all reacting differently, my sister and I more closely resembling each other in words and actions. My brother offering a reprieve from the craziness in his earnest,'Oh shit thought you were calling me with bad news."
I know I will revisit this soon, because I'll have too, there's too much left unsaid. But for now, I really honestly don't know how I feel about my father's death. Thanks for listening.
Comments
This is totally fucked up.