On Reminders (9/27/18)
Dear Daddy,
Today was a tough day. I'm not quite sure why, but it was hard to get myself up and out of bed today. It just felt heavy. I can still feel it a bit now as I sit here...between my shoulder blades, pressing down onto my spine. It doesn't hurt, it just feels heavy.
Everything was reminding me of you today.
The news that "Dunkin' Donuts" is changing their name to "Dunkin'" reminded me of getting donuts with you every Sunday. One jelly (powdered sugar preferred) for me, one french cruller for you.
The old man in the elevator with that look like he was on a mission, and the elevator was moving too slowly for him to do his part as quickly as he wanted, reminded me of you pretty much because that was "you".
The tiny old woman at CVS that carried her items in her hands rather than use a small paper bag (because she wanted to save the environment) reminded me of you the worst.
At first, I was annoyed. She was taking her time and moving so slowly. I could have gone to the other CVS across the street and check out 5 times before she was done. This reminded me of you. Waiting in line was never on your list of things to be done. I remember leaving SO MANY LINES at stores or restaurants with you. I'd always coax you to be patient. Today, I felt your urge to just forget it and come back later.
Then, I felt sad. This woman was at least 80 years old. You will never be 80 years old. You will never be old. You wont ever be that old person that took 10 fucking years to buy one fucking bottle of shampoo with his goddamn pennies and then refuse to take a bag to "save the environment" while he can hardly manage to pick up the stupid shampoo once he's decided he's ready to leave. That will never be you.
I usually don't cry when I think of you. It usually makes me smile, or feel like for a moment my entire body is full of butterflies. But today was different. I didn't cry in the CVS, Daddy. I cried in the car.
I was listening to my usual playlist of random music of all genres and decades and felt uncomfortable. I was thinking about all of the times I thought of you today, and the music just didn't fit the moment. I needed your music. I have a playlist called "Childhood", and its all the songs I remember listening to with you and mom. Tons of Dead and Billy Joel. We listened to this playlist in the hospital. Do you remember? I turned this playlist on for the first time since you left and hit "shuffle".
Carolina In My Mind came on. Daddy, there were four songs I played for you before we said good bye. One was Carolina On My Mind, which I haven't listened to again until today. I fell apart. I'm so sorry Daddy. I cried. I tried to hold it in until I got home but I couldn't. This was one of the last things you heard before you left. Did you know what was happening? Did I pick the right songs? Did you go to Carolina? I'm sorry I only played you four songs. I'm sorry you had to go. I really wish you didn't go. I wish I could have helped you or fixed you. I was willing to give you a kidney and part of my liver. Anything for you, Daddy.
I felt you during this song in the car, Daddy. And even though I was crying and snotting all over myself, I could feel your love. I took deep breaths. I talked to you. I took more deep breaths. I sang along. I cried. I missed you. I love you.
I was begging for the next song to be something less emotional. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle one of the other 4 songs. Thank goodness for mom, because the Doobie Brothers came on and I was able to breathe again. Disaster averted.
I made it home safely, even though there were tears in my eyes. I know you'd want to know when I got home.
I love you, Daddy. All the way to Fisherville (where the donuts, fire station, and ice creams are) and back.
Love,
Alexa
Today was a tough day. I'm not quite sure why, but it was hard to get myself up and out of bed today. It just felt heavy. I can still feel it a bit now as I sit here...between my shoulder blades, pressing down onto my spine. It doesn't hurt, it just feels heavy.
Everything was reminding me of you today.
The news that "Dunkin' Donuts" is changing their name to "Dunkin'" reminded me of getting donuts with you every Sunday. One jelly (powdered sugar preferred) for me, one french cruller for you.
The old man in the elevator with that look like he was on a mission, and the elevator was moving too slowly for him to do his part as quickly as he wanted, reminded me of you pretty much because that was "you".
The tiny old woman at CVS that carried her items in her hands rather than use a small paper bag (because she wanted to save the environment) reminded me of you the worst.
At first, I was annoyed. She was taking her time and moving so slowly. I could have gone to the other CVS across the street and check out 5 times before she was done. This reminded me of you. Waiting in line was never on your list of things to be done. I remember leaving SO MANY LINES at stores or restaurants with you. I'd always coax you to be patient. Today, I felt your urge to just forget it and come back later.
Then, I felt sad. This woman was at least 80 years old. You will never be 80 years old. You will never be old. You wont ever be that old person that took 10 fucking years to buy one fucking bottle of shampoo with his goddamn pennies and then refuse to take a bag to "save the environment" while he can hardly manage to pick up the stupid shampoo once he's decided he's ready to leave. That will never be you.
I usually don't cry when I think of you. It usually makes me smile, or feel like for a moment my entire body is full of butterflies. But today was different. I didn't cry in the CVS, Daddy. I cried in the car.
I was listening to my usual playlist of random music of all genres and decades and felt uncomfortable. I was thinking about all of the times I thought of you today, and the music just didn't fit the moment. I needed your music. I have a playlist called "Childhood", and its all the songs I remember listening to with you and mom. Tons of Dead and Billy Joel. We listened to this playlist in the hospital. Do you remember? I turned this playlist on for the first time since you left and hit "shuffle".
Carolina In My Mind came on. Daddy, there were four songs I played for you before we said good bye. One was Carolina On My Mind, which I haven't listened to again until today. I fell apart. I'm so sorry Daddy. I cried. I tried to hold it in until I got home but I couldn't. This was one of the last things you heard before you left. Did you know what was happening? Did I pick the right songs? Did you go to Carolina? I'm sorry I only played you four songs. I'm sorry you had to go. I really wish you didn't go. I wish I could have helped you or fixed you. I was willing to give you a kidney and part of my liver. Anything for you, Daddy.
I felt you during this song in the car, Daddy. And even though I was crying and snotting all over myself, I could feel your love. I took deep breaths. I talked to you. I took more deep breaths. I sang along. I cried. I missed you. I love you.
I was begging for the next song to be something less emotional. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle one of the other 4 songs. Thank goodness for mom, because the Doobie Brothers came on and I was able to breathe again. Disaster averted.
I made it home safely, even though there were tears in my eyes. I know you'd want to know when I got home.
I love you, Daddy. All the way to Fisherville (where the donuts, fire station, and ice creams are) and back.
Love,
Alexa
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