I mentioned going to my parents house this morning and corrected myself, before I noticed, and said my mother’s. Josh pointed this out, said it wasn’t necessary, because it had been my parent’s house, my dad had lived there, and I choked up and started crying for a little bit. He felt awful, kept apologizing, saying he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It wasn’t him, it was me. I just finished my period and was still emotional. I think what really bothered me was I wasn’t even aware of correcting myself. It felt wrong to call it my parent’s house.
I have to look at a calender to tell you when he died. The funeral was right before thanksgiving, the incident was two Fridays before that, we pulled the plug the Friday after he was admitted. That’s always my train of thought, and I panic and look at my phone, find the date, and the panic disappears, and I don’t feel guilty for not knowing anymore, but I forget after a little bit and the cycle repeats once I’m reminded that I don’t know.
September is halfway over, October is going to fly by, and then it’ll have been a year without my dad, and I’m finally starting to feel it. There was a minor depression a few weeks after, but this whole time I’ve barely noticed him gone. We’re technically better off without him. He had such a hard, hard time trying to support us. Kaila was in jail and I was being a general fuck up. Now Kaila’s in school, I’m back in school with ambition, and money isn’t an issue for anyone anymore.
I think of him working so hard. Every day, just tolling and wearing himself out. I didn’t even notice, and didn’t want to notice, because it would just make me feel guilty. Thinking of anyone but myself made me feel guilty and I just didn’t want to have to be a better person, work harder, and try harder, because I felt like I was doing enough. In reality, I wasn’t doing anything but sinking and didn’t want to bother to pull myself out. What sits, remains still. What is in motion, stays in motion. It’s difficult to force yourself to wrap your brain around other people’s lives when you know it’s going to make things harder for yourself.
That’s all he ever did. Worried about us.
The morning of the incident, I remember some sort of panic to get my shit together started rising in my throat. Architecture, architecture, architecture, kept beating at my brain because that’s actually what I wanted to do back in high school. I didn’t want anyone to call me out for it being Fountainhead inspired, though. There it was again, screaming at me, and the dread that something very serious was about to happen.
After finding out how difficult, how long, and how tiresome architecture is, I decided to just settle for Industrial Design. But he worked that hard, maybe I should make myself to it.
I realized that I wasn’t just upset about correcting myself, though. I realized I was trying to refer it as my mother’s house, because the idea of them both being there again makes me so damn sad.
As soon as I finished this, a coworker of mine sent me a text message about how she was thinking of Josh and me. She signed her name, Gloria, and I started crying because I’d hadn’t thought of that being one of his favorite songs, one he’d howl in his tone deaf way,
Today’s theme is saudade, a concept with no direct translation into English, one that describes a vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, for something other than the present, a turning towards the past or towards the future; not an active discontent or poignant sadness but an indolent dreaming wistfulness.”
Everyday of my life.