When an immediate family member passes away, you mourn, no doubt.
Time heals all wounds they say. In this case, I’m left wondering (while cursing to the high heavens for making me deal with this unwanted drama) — how much time does it take??
When an immediate family member passes on, even when the relationship is strained, it hurts like nothing I’d wish on my worst enemy. I think the strained, complicated relationship I had with my father even made the pain, the fucking loss worse than what it would have been if we had been close.
It was 2 years ago, on a hospital bed, April 15, 2007, 1:08 AM, my dad was prounounced dead amidst nurses and the doctor rushing to his side. My mom and I standing there, watching, helpless.
I remember EVERYTHING. Making calls to the rest of the family. The sound of the machines. The sound of the flatline. The people. The place.
2 friggin’ years ago. In those 2 years I’ve bummed around, found work, left work, went back to work, found new friends, lost old ones… I’ve done so much. And yet, one thing stays the same:
The tears. The tears are still there. And the memories are crystal clear.