Father’s Day Regret

Today is Father’s Day.
I lost my dad almost four months ago.

I thought about my father all day at work yesterday. I never understood what Father’s Day meant until today. As a child I remember making my dad cards, or drawing a picture, but we really didn’t celebrate the day. Same with Mother’s Day. It in all honesty was just another day to me. Even after all these years I never celebrated Father’s Day with him. I would post a Meme or a message on his Facebook page, I didn’t even have the decency to call him…. WoW…. great daughter. I now regret that. I should have made it special. I should have let him know what he meant to me.

I never did.

There are few pictures of us together. Mostly because we were both always taking the pictures. Though it still makes me sad. Still feel regret.

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The only picture of my dad and us girls.

I always thought there would be time. More time for pictures, more time for memories, more time for family. But there are no promises for tomorrow.

I need to not only celebrate the days, but also celebrate life. Not just of those that have past, but mostly for those that live.

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Mom, my sister Marianne, myself and my dad.

I miss my dad. I miss him a lot. I miss his quirky FB messages and his sarcastic comments. I miss his little jokes. I miss him tell me diving and hunting stories. I miss his noogie’s, the man enjoyed messing up others hair since he had none. As proof in the picture above. I miss that smile he had when someone was getting on his nerves. And that cheesy grin when he was up to no good.

I miss my dad.

My Wish

A month ago, I went back to work.
I went back to work because I had to. For my family. For myself.

Its bad.

I’m tired. I’m in pain. I’m grumpy.

But I continue to push. Pushing myself towards death. That’s what it feels like. Death.

I am pushing myself off the ledge.

But it’s still not enough. I’m not enough.

I wish….. I wish they could see how hard I’m working. On my feet 6-8 hours straight. Now most may laugh…. “only 6-8 hours”, well those hours are like 24 hours straight to me. You see I have arthritis in my spine, shoulder, feet and hands. I’m carrying plates, trays, glasses. I’m carrying the weight twice that others are, or that what my body feels like. I have to grip harder, hold tighter.
I wish….. I wish they could feel. Feel the stress, feel the pain.
I wish….. I wish they knew how it felt to drain your soul. To push yourself to the point of tears… and to keep on pushing till there is nothing left.

I’m torturing myself. I am my own terrorist.

I’m giving so much to my body, there is nothing left for my family. Everyone hates the other. There is no love in my house. My oldest has been babysitting for me. She hates it. She hates me, she hates her brother and sister. She hates her life.

I’m trying so hard.

I wish….. I wish I could give more. Be more. Do more.
I wish….. I wish I could stop letting others down. My family, my employers, my coworkers.
I wish….. I wish I had more to give.

You see, I have Celiac Disease. I work in a restaurant.  I am constantly around the demon that weakens me. Like Superman working at a Kryptonite warehouse. It takes everything I have. The contamination. The poisoning. The pain. But I keep on going… I have to.

I hate the feeling that it just ain’t enough. I’m not a good enough employee. I’m not a good enough mother. I’m not a good enough friend.
I need to do more, be more. I just can’t. I can’t do more.

I have been a stay at home mom for a long time. A decade. Honestly I wasn’t very good at it. I would do what I could on good days, but those bad days I never did enough. But I tried. I made sure my kids were clean, fed, safe and loved. Maybe the dishes weren’t done, and the dust was out of control, but I learned to get over that. I got up every morning to get the kids to school, did what I could do while they were gone and was there when they got off the bus. I helped them with homework. I made sure the necessary thing were done. Yes, there were days my children watched me crying from the pain. Yes, there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I truly hate that my children have seen these days, but there is nothing I can do about that. I just hope it makes the stronger and more compassionate adults. I had time for theatre, one thing that made those bad days a little bit better. I wish I could explain what it feels like to be on stage. To be apart of something. To pretend to be someone else. To make people laugh… or cry. It’s my soul being to be on stage. If only I was as good at it as I am passionate about it. But I don’t have that this summer.

I wish….. I wish I was more.

You see, I have a blood disease. My body acts as though I have cancer, but I don’t. My immune system is shot. My WBC is high. My blood rejects protein and essential vitamins needed to live. My body don’t process…. anything. I am tired, all the time. I have chronic headaches. I awake with a headache, go to sleep with a headache. Everyday.

Because of all this my family suffers. Because of me.

I wish I could be healthy. I wish I could work full-time, take care of my family, keep my house clean, be active with theatre and still have time to have fun with friends. I wish I was like others. I wish I could but I can’t.

I wish I could give you more.

But I keep going…. keep giving it my all. Why? Cause I have to.

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Funny how my husband warned me that I couldn’t do it all…. he was right.