It's been a while since I last posted...almost a year in fact. I can't believe it's actually been that long.
I turn here when I feel I have some thoughts and am not quite sure what to do with those thoughts, when I have either talked all I can about something or when I can't talk about it at all.
Now is one of those times and it actually fits into both categories. Yesterday evening, I found out that my dad died.
It's not what anyone thinks. I'm not bawling, I'm not breaking down, in fact, I'm not even sure that I'm what you would call "sad"; and therein lies the problem.
I never had much of a relationship with my dad. I wouldn't call it bad, I'd just call it lacking. And now he's dead. With death come a lot of thoughts for me. I'm not sure I've said it here, but I've said it a few times over the last few years - people like me don't deal all that well with death; and by "people like me", I mean people who don't have faith. Who don't believe in god, the devil, heaven, the afterlife, ghosts, etc. I don't contend to know what happens when you die, but I put my money on nothing. On darkness and just nothing.
So from that perspective, whenever anyone I know dies, it's a struggle. There is no crutch, no comforting thoughts to soothe the pain.
I was at work today.
I didn't tell anyone because I didn't really think they ought to know. Then I needed to tell my boss and HR because I have to go out of town for the funeral this Friday.
The whole experience was really weird. All these people coming up to me and offering "anything I need", which coming from a boss, coworker, whatever, seems very open ended considering our relationship; then there's the look me straight in the eyes, pity stare - which, I must admit is very on-the-spot putting. These people who know nothing of me or my relationship with my dad, very nicely, assume it's this horribly sad experience and honestly all they are doing is making me feel really uncomfortable because the expectation they have of how I am feeling is probably the farthest from the truth.
So then do I seem like a maniac weirdo because I'm not feeling like they think I should feel? I don't much care, but it doesn't relieve the pressure and on the contrary just accentuates the fact that I know I am at odds with how I should feel about all this anyway.
I don't hate my dad. I think I used to. But I realized in my late teens and early twenties that it was not only a waste of time but also a fallacy. But just because I realized I didn't hate my dad, doesn't mean I loved him, per se. And now that he's gone, I'm just not sure I feel any personal affect at all.
It's all a little bizarre, I must admit. I'm in limbo and I realize now, if I realize anything at all, I've felt this way towards him for a very long time. But now, I guess, it's time to move on.
