it's been a long time coming

I'm stuck at work on a beautiful day, what else is new? At least I can actually have a moment to myself and finally write. I've started this blog maybe a hundred times, but everything that came out sounded so unlike me. But I guess that makes sense, these days I don't quite know who I am. I don't feel like me. A month has passed since my dad died...my dad died...my dad died...I still can't believe that this is true. Maybe it's taken over a hundred times to write anything about this because without fail my eyes begin to water and this weight begins to pull me down, like a string tide to my sternum, pulling hard and slowly, and I can't breathe.


In my moments of pure weakness, I beg to go back for at least one last time. I ask God, anyone, to take me back to the day before, to hold him and kiss him and tell him I love him so much, to do anything to change the events that happened that Saturday, to save me from today. It plays in my head like a movie, I hate this fucken movie. It's the dumbest fucken movie! It's the most painful movie, but then again it's not a movie and all I'm left with is this feeling of pain. A pain that is not comparable to anything I've ever felt. I never knew heartache until now.

The Friday before my dad past away was too perfect, that should have tipped me off right then and there that something awful was looming. Salome and I went to my parents’ house to meet up with my family because we were all going to a baby shower. Papi wasn't coming with us because he was having his usual poker night with his friends. There were jokes and hugs and love to spare. I'll always remember this night, even though we hadn't spent the entire night together as a family, because it's the last time I hugged my dad and kissed him and I told him how much I loved him. I'm grateful for at least having that much. We all went our separate ways, off to the baby shower first, then to Jacob's first Solo Art show and then off to boozy nights in LES.

That Saturday I woke up happy and hungry! Amanda had stayed with me that night, and we decided to head to work early and go to the Diner to have breakfast. We ordered our food and that's when I got a call from Jerica, my brother's girlfriend. Her exact words were "Hey has anyone called you about your dad?" I was clueless to what her words meant, and replied "No, no ones called. What's up?" Her next words hit me like tiny daggers "Your dad is in the hospital." I didn't know what was going on and I quickly started panicking. I called my mother right away and asked her what was going on. She was crying and told me that my father had a heart attack while they were shopping. I went into immediate shock, and then I became hysterical. I knew something was right. I honestly don't know what I would've done if I did not have Amanda there. She instantly became my rock, my angel to lift me to life and get me into a cab.

The cab ride to my house was the longest ride of my life; I couldn't get there fast enough. Both Jerica and Salome were waiting for me at my mom's to take me to the hospital. I sobbed pretty much the entire time there along with Jerica. We didn't know, but we knew...when we finally got there Jerica dropped me off at the front of the hospital with my father's diabetes meds. As soon as I walk through the automatic doors, I knew. My brother was there waiting for me, with open arms and face that told me our lives were forever changed. The look on my brother's face is burned into my memory. Even when I try, I can't let it go. He looked like he was in absolute agony and I'm sure my face mimicked his. I collapsed into tears in his arms and just let him hold me, because at that moment I couldn't hold myself.

I wish I could simply say that the rest was a blur, but that doesn't hold true for me. That was the worst weekend of my life. Minutes had a way of changing themselves into hours, hours into days. This is the saddest and strangest time of my life. And here I am now; this blog post took over 2 weeks to finally make it through, because every word sparked another idea, another memory, and another moment of sadness all over again…

it feels good to have an outlet, but I can’t write anymore about this. Goodnight.

repost from old blog