One Week Ago

At 7:30am will be one week since my dad was killed. I’m feeling extremely numb today. I wanted to call into work for the day off, but I’m hoping work will keep me distracted and focused on something else.

Last night was the first night I was alone. My daughter went to ex’s for the weekend. I did pretty good, until I was scrolling on social media and I seen my mom had posted a picture of my dad. The first time I saw this photo was at the funeral. It was one of the last pictures taken of him. He was a groundskeeper for the school. The photo is of him on his mower. In his hand is his iPod. He is smiling, as always. At the funeral, this photo made me laugh. Dad loved being outside. He loved his job. He loved music. That was him. Last night, I saw the photo and I lost it. Tears poured down my cheeks. I wanted to call someone to talk, but I’m feeling like a burden on people. I feel like people are expecting me to shut up and move on. Yesterday I was talking to someone and she told me I’ve “been talking a lot.” That comment stuck with me. I don’t know if she meant it as a positive or a negative. I mean positive because I am talking about what happened. I’m not bottling up my emotions. Or, negative that she is tired of hearing from me because I have seen and talked with her every day this week. Even my posts on here have had less views, likes, and comments ever since this has happened.

I know death makes people feel uncomfortable. I don’t want to make people to feel like that. But, on the opposite side I need someone to talk to and to listen to me.

Another part of me feels guilty when I don’t think about my dad. I tried watching a movie last night. I felt guilty for not thinking about dad. I felt like this horrible person. Then I think about all the days I went without calling or texting my dad. I feel like a horrible daughter. I feel like I should have done more. I should have stayed in contact more.

I thought I had more time with my dad. I imagined him getting to see me get remarried and having more kids. I always imagined him getting to meet his great-grandchildren. I never imagined this is how life would turn out.