Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Stuck.

I'm stuck.

Last week I was in sponsored post mode. This week and then some? Nada. Nothing.

I've got the emotions. I've got the anxieties. I've got the thoughts but I just don't have the words.

I've watched a few recent episodes of Glee lately and cried every.single.time. I'm about to catch up on the New York episode and then I have last night's episode and I'll be caught up.

Why is it that emotional for me to watch these damned episodes?

I can blame it on PMS. It would be easy to.

But I think it's a combination of real life emotions and "TV" related emotions all smushed up together. Do you know what that's like?

I watched The Quarterback on October 11th. I cried like a baby throughout the entire episode. The characters mourned Finn and sang songs like If I Die Young and Seasons of Love. And I'll Stand By You. And I bawled my eyes out. And then I downloaded the soundtrack and cried some more.

And then less than an hour later I cried for real.

My father had died.

I can't say those words.

I say passed away.

I feel like I'm going to be sick even WRITING them.

Passover starts next week. Passover. Without my father.

Impossible.

Even all these years of me living in NC I've observed Passover to the best I could - explaining the difficulties to my father. Skyping through Seder. Raising my own glass of wine. Texting him pictures of tiny, flavorless matzo balls. Tzimmes with syrupy something. And no pineapple. I made matzo brie and called him that morning to find out how much sugar to put in it.

"Da, I'm making matzo brie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He'd laugh. Smile. I'd feel it even when I couldn't see it.

One year my parents brought a suitcase full of Passover here for the holiday. We laughed. It was seriously so heavy you couldn't lift it. But he did.

And he made me a matzo brie in my crappy pan. Until I remembered the wok I'd never used. So he tried that. But then he made me a matzo brie with bananas.

"Are there bananas in this?" He nodded. Smiled. Almost proud. I nodded back. And then he remembered. I don't eat bananas anymore. Oops.

I laughed. It's okay. We'll make another one.

* I'll stand by you. Won't let nobody hurt you. I'll stand by you. *

Always, Daddy. I'll always have you by me. And I'll always carry you with me.

And this holiday is going to be so damned rough. Just like any others before and after. Because you're not here. You're not here and it's just not fair.

But what can we do?

Passover will come and go. And then Mother's Day. Father's Day. My mom's birthday. My brother's anniversary. My dad's birthday. My brother's. And then mine again. Without him.

We'll reach the year mark. We're more than halfway there. How is that even possible?

* But I always thought that I'd see you again. *

Won't I? Still?

G-d, I hope so, Pops. Because I need to. Somehow. Somewhere. I just do.

I love you.


* I'm linking up with Pour Your Heart Out today over at Things I Can't Say. *

15 comments:

  1. I have no words that can match the deepness of your feelings here. But I want you to know I read this today. And I'm sending you love and hugs from far away. And I will be praying for you and your family this Passover.

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  2. I am so very sorry to hear about your loss. I know every day is hard but those holidays, especially those where you shared so many memories, make it more difficult. The tears will gradually diminish but you will never forget.

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  3. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Both of my parents are no longer with me and I think about them all the time. You will meet again.

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  4. It's hard at holidays, it is, and the memories do flood back. But in time, we do heal, more or less. We buried my mother on Christmas Eve one year and now, 15 years later,I can manage on that day. It happened slowly. Be kind to yourself. Blessings.
    Carol

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  5. The memories you have of him- so amazing. He sounds like he was such a wonderful father. I'm so sorry for your loss and I'll pray for your through the holiday season. xo

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  6. Sending big hugs your way, Andrea!!! Crying is cleansing and cathartic. Get it out and do what you need to do. No need to apologize for feeling the way you feel. Loss is hard!! Hugs again!!

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  7. I wish I could find words that would make you feel better.. but nothing is a substitute for your pops. Just know you aren't alone. We are here, even if we aren't *THERE*, with you..

    Sending some virtual hugs. We'll 'stand by you'!

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  8. Cherish the memories and know that he's with you always. He sounded like a wonderful man and I'm sorry for your loss.

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  9. Beautifully written but it sounds oh so painful. And you should know that I use sad movies as a release. Sometimes when I know I just need a good cry (which happens) I intentionally put on a tear jerker and let myself go. xo

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  10. I am sending you so much love. I am thinking of you as you celebrate Passover without your dad. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

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  11. I all too often rely on TV to help me feel the feels that I can't face on my own. I know exactly where you stand.
    My heart goes out to you during this holiday season.

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  12. I'm so sorry! Losing a parent is one of the hardest things ever. Those milestones start to pass by and they get a little easier...but still hard at the same time. I can't believe it's been almost 5 years since my mom died. I still cry, and that's okay. :)

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  13. I'm so sorry about your loss.. I feel your pain through your writing. Sending hugs and prayers. I hope the happy memories of your dad will help you find some joy in your celebrations. He sounds like a wonderful man.

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