NJM 6 – one year.

 Dear Diary;

I wrote this in my other diary last night and thought instead of writing again, I’d just copy and paste.

 

Dear Uncle;

(today)  will mark one year since you died.

When my mom called me that morning to tell me that you had passed, I didn’t really know what to do first. I stood in my doorway with the phone in my hand and I just stared into space and thought about you; my mouth hung open and my eyes welled up with tears. Your death was inevitable and your decline in health was obvious. Your death was shocking- but it was not a shock.

I wandered around the house wondering what would happen next. I waited for the phone to ring, I watched through the window for a car to pull in the driveway but nothing came and no sound was made. It was unseasonably warm and I sat outside in my t-shirt and stroked the dogs fur just thinking about what would be next. I walked to the mailbox and my father, who was gone away deer hunting drove around the corner as I neared it. He stopped the truck and rolled his window down to talk to me, and I asked him who called him. He said no one- that he had come home because he needed something from a store in town. It was a fluke that he came home that day, the day you passed away.

I wanted to go with everyone- but I didn’t know where they were. Mom had said something about going with aunt K to your house, but I wasn’t sure if that’s where she was or not. I sat at home while mom, aunt K, aunt K, aunt C, cousin K and Grandma and Grandpa all went to your house and had a beer in your honor. I regret not going over there to be with them and with your body.

Your daughter, a mere 13 years of age, was afraid to go home for weeks because she didn’t want to see your empty hospital bed in the living room. She stayed here with me and we watched movies and painted. We decided to go ahead with the birthday party for N the next day because he’s too young to fully understand what had happened and it seemed wrong to cancel his pizza party. We went to Pizza Hut and ate, opened presents and toasted you silently. Aunt K asked him a few days later if he could remember who all was at his party and replied "Nana and Papa, aunt K, aunt C, aunt C and cousins M, K and A, aunt L" and then he said that you were there too. Aunt K explained that you had died the day before and that you weren’t there, but N insisted that you were and when he was asked what he meant he said that you were there, standing by the door and watching us.

I believe you were there that night.

 

(Today), I will not be left out. I will go with mom and my aunts and grandparents and I will drink a 50 in your honor and make a toast to you- where ever you are.

 

p.s. I’m sorry your other daughters couldn’t get over their selfish-ness to attend your memorial. I tried to get them to see you before you died, but they resisted. They didn’t deserve you as their father.

 

love me.