That last conversation

I should be writing about the benefit for my dad, Laura and Chas that was held this past weekend, but I couldn't bring myself to do it just yet - Sitting up late at night, not able to sleep and I put on the Bachelorette.  It's the episode with Andi, where she finds out that one of the men she sent home died in an accident.  And now at almost one am I am sitting here crying my eyes out.  Her phrase "that was my last conversation with him"

For whatever reason all it made me think of was my last conversations with my dad.  So I'm sobbing.  Because it actually took me a minute to remember.  It hasn't even been 3 years and I am already forgetting.  So I'm documenting it.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011.  My dad hated Pizza Hut buffet.  But knew I loved it.  Back then they had a dinner buffet every Wednesday.  Several times I'd text or call him to let him know that I was going if he wanted to join the boys and I.  He hadn't been able to in the past.  For whatever reason, he called me that Wednesday and said he had my nephews and was going to take them - could I bring the boys.  Kaden (5 months old at the time) was so fussy, but we were already in the car, and I wanted to see my dad.  Hell, maybe I just wanted a break, I wanted Kaden to bond with my dad so, so badly.  He was the only grandchild that wouldn't just sleep on my dads chest and I knew, even though he'd never say it, bothered him.

He spent so much time with Kaden.  Tried to help me so much, knowing how alone I felt, yet Kaden wanted NOTHING other than me.  So we went.

I remember during dinner, Kaden stayed in his car seat - all the boys were loud and rambunctious and enjoying their time with Pappy.  It was Lucas's first experience with desert pizza, and he loved it. In retrospect, it was an awesome hour and a half.  At the time I was stressed and trying to enjoy it and relax.  I'll never forget the goodbye.  It was the last time I saw my dad.  It wasn't the last conversation - but it was the last time he held me in his arms in his big bear hug saying goodbye.  I will never forget it.  I buckled all the kids in the car and he got my nephews in his car.  And stood by my driver's side door waiting to hug me.  I thanked him for dinner and told him how much I loved him.  And said goodbye.  The last time I saw my dad was September 28, 2011.  That Thursday and Friday I was at my parents house but our paths didn't cross.

Some how that day, that conversation, to me is the last.  In reality, I spoke with him on the phone when he was in Myrtle Beach -stupid stuff, how is Kaden, how is Jesse (their dog that was staying with us) it couldn't have been more than a 3 minute conversation.  How could I have let that last true time I talk to him pass without any real meaning.  And how in the world can I forget his words from that day.  I don't get it.  I never will.  I miss my dad.  I hurt constantly from it.  I'm not learning to deal with it.  And I hate it.  Alone all of the time and I will forever blame him for leaving me stranded in this world.  But will always love him and thank him for that Wednesday night.  How the stars crossed and lined up perfectly to make us be able to be together that night.

I love you dad.

Living the Dream

Written last year around this time.  From my journal on my computer:

July 17th I will be holding a baseball clinic, game and 5K run to try and raise money for a scholarship fund for my dad, Laura and Chas.  In their memory.  It's with the Potter Baseball tour - which is a really, really great thing.  I know all of this.  Yet the days keep coming and the event day is closer and I just keep procrastinating on everything.  The memories this riles up - it is supposed to be good, helpful almost.  But so far, it isn't.  I'm caught in the days passing, flying even, by.  Caught in people that care about me wanting to help, yet me not being able to willingly accept it because, it would makes others be bothered.  Family drama, drama with my kids, drama with the man I love.  There is seriously so much drama, I can't really handle it.  I know I am not going to want to do this next year, but I will.  Because, how can I not now.  The first one hasn't even passed.  I know the issues that will come up.  They are inevitable.  I know I can't avoid them.  I am so damn sick of trying so hard to please everyone.  In the end, there isn't pleasing everyone - and at some point, you have to wake up and realize that people that are supposed to love and support you and care about you, or not supposed to, but you want them to so damn bad - you just can't will someone to do that. 


A small piece of that journal entry.  I can feel the pain and hurt from so many angles as I read it again today.  As I did the last few days.  And here i am again - the weekend of the event.  This year other things added to it, with a softball tournament, a new location, more concessions, a host of new issues.  I am just constantly on the run.  And I love it.  Because I can without a doubt make it through if I do not have to think.  Come Sunday, July 13th, however, when this is all over, I will be gone.  At least until August 16th when I'm forced to go back to work.  This place isn't for me.  Never was.  I should have never come here.