A Missing Piece
A Missing Piece
Today marks the day of 3 years since we lost you. I can’t believe it’s already been 3 years. 3 years without my Daddy. Like, how awful is it to say that? This shit sucks. It feels like just yesterday he was still here, healthy, we were laughing, and just enjoying life. But in reality, 3 years ago today was the last time I ever got to hold your hand. People say it gets easier with time. But I disagree. I am going to be honest; it does not get easier in my opinion. At all. I think that message has become misconstrued. It does not get easier – but instead with time you just learn to live with the pain. But that doesn’t mean it gets easier. I haven’t gone 1 day without thinking of my Dad. Wishing he were still here. Creating scenarios in my head of conversations we might have had and fake memories of what it would be like with him and my son Ky. There’s been countless times where I’ve just wanted to call him, to talk to him, share my day with him, have him be apart of so many moments that he is missing. It’s like I have this hole in my heart that physically hurts and feels empty. And although I am the happiest & content I’ve been in life. There is still a part of me that is missing and will always feel incomplete. Because at the end of the day, no one can replace that hole in my heart, no one can replace the presence of my Dad, no one can replace the love I have for my Dad, and no one can replace that missing piece of my Dad.
If you don’t already know. My Dad was diagnosed with Terminal Pancreatic Cancer in November of 2020. His last few months were absolutely awful. Cancer is no joke. You hear about cancer all the time, but I feel like you can become numb to hearing the word cancer. You don’t truly realize how absolutely horrifying and what a terrible terrible terrible disease it is until you watch someone you love get it. I quite literally watched my Dad deteriorate until his final days. It is heartbreaking to watch someone you love who was so strong and lively slowly become weaker and weaker to the point where he couldn’t even communicate anymore. I was there almost every single day. Ensuring that I could spend every last moment I had with him. He passed away the morning of February 23rd, 2021 at his home. I rushed over as soon as I found out and stayed with him until the coroner picked him up. I held his hand until they came. It felt like I was his little girl holding his hand one last time. As weird as it sounds it was really comforting having my dad there for a couple hours before the coroner came. Even though he had passed. It was just weirdly comforting.
Grief is weird. The first month or so I felt like I was in shock. Just sort of going through the motions. I don’t even think I cried that much. Which, of course, then lead to intrusive thoughts. Like what is wrong with me? Why aren’t I crying? But now I know I was just shocked. Like how could this be real? Almost making myself believe that he’s just on “vacation” and I’m going to wake up and get a text to hangout the next day. But unfortunately, that’s not the reality. It hit me about a month or 2 later. When everything got quiet. If you’ve ever lost someone, then you know everyone overloads you with love and support the first month. But then, it’s almost like crickets after that first month. Everyone moves on with their life and no one is really checking in anymore. And that is when it really hurts. That’s when it really sinks in. Like fuck. My Dad is really gone. And the world is really just going to move on without him.
That one-month mark after losing someone I think is when you are overrun with the most pain and emotion. It’s gotten quieter and you’re left with your thoughts, your memories, the photos, and videos to look at over and over and over again. No one is really reaching out anymore, or when you do see someone, people don’t know what to say to you, how to talk, or act around you because you’ve just lost someone. You sit with yourself and think how the hell has a month gone by already and why is everyone going back to normal. Life isn’t normal anymore. There’s a person that was walking this planet and no longer is. Everyday life isn’t supposed to happen anymore because that person isn’t there to be a part of that everyday life. But that’s part of the harsh reality of death. Life still has to go on. The world keeps turning even when you’re heartbroken. I think this was the hardest moment for me. Realizing this and knowing I still had to move on. The next hardest part was learning how to live with the pain and anguish of this missing piece in my heart.
When I lost my Dad I was also pregnant. I had found out exactly 2 weeks before he passed. And man, you hear so many horror stories of miscarriages and how stress can induce a miscarriage. I was so worried that with everything going on I might miscarry. Thank goodness that didn’t happen. I think I might have gone into a very negative spiral if that had happened. Honestly, I think I might have abused alcohol or something. I really believe that being pregnant was almost my saving grace. Losing my Dad is the first major person I have ever lost in my life and I didn’t know how to handle it. And I didn’t want to reach out to people because I figured I’d just become a broken record. Always upset about the same thing. And why would I want to burden someone with that? I’m also supposed to be the strong one – so I put up a front and broke down behind closed doors. But, knowing I had my child growing inside of me gave me some strength to push through. Like I wasn’t really alone. It was him and I against the world.
One positive thing, I was able to tell my Dad I was pregnant. It was a Tuesday I found out and that same day I went and told him. I wanted to keep my pregnancy quiet and wait at least 3 months before announcing to the world but due to the circumstances, there was no way I wasn’t going to tell him. He was so excited for us, but you could also see the pain in his eyes. Since he knew he wouldn’t be there to be the Grandad he always wanted to be. He had planned to retire and then be Grandad daycare for our child. It was a special but heart wrenching moment I shared with him. I mean, having a baby is supposed to be this exciting love filling moment in your life and for me it was very bittersweet.
I also was lucky enough to tell him that if it was a boy, we were going to use his name as the middle name “Peter”. Once my Dad got sick, he also ended up having kidney failure. When you have kidney failure, you get really sleepy. So he didn’t stay awake for very long when I would go to see him and might fall asleep mid conversation. Also, with everything going on you could just see the pain and sorrow in his eyes. But when I told him if we had a boy that his grandson would have his name for his middle name, it was the first time since he’d been sick that I actually saw his eyes light up with happiness. He had a huge grin and said “really” with the purest joy in his voice. Then multiple times when I’d come over, he would say the baby is going to have my name. He was so proud and I will forever hold on and cherish that moment for the rest of my life.
Man, I miss my Dad so much. I wish he could have met my son Kyler. Since I was a little girl I always had this fear he wouldn’t be around to meet my kids. Just because I knew he was older. And unfortunately, that fear became my reality. It sucks. I can talk so highly of my Dad. But no one, including my son will ever fully understand how amazing he really was unless you got to meet him yourself. He was the kind of guy you either loved or hated. He was a little rough around the edges, blunt, and to the point. But if you got to know the side of him I knew, he was big hearted, hilarious, he was fun, encouraging, loving, sentimental, creative, and smart as fuck. He was a big teddy bear. And he’d probably kill me if he knew I publicly said that – LOL!
I had a moment; I think it was August. I pulled up to pick up teriyaki and realized I had forgotten my wallet. Kyle (my husband) was across the street getting gas and came over to pay for it. When I got out, there was a dead white and black dragonfly on the sidewalk right in front of my car. In perfect condition, not stepped on, crushed, or anything. I’ve never believed in ghosts or signs or any stuff like that.. until then. Kyle is the one who said I should take it. I said “What? No, why? That’s weird. Bring a dead bug home?” he replied “maybe it’s a sign from your Dad. It’s not weird and I would take it if I were you”. So he picked it up and he put it in my car. I brought that white and black dragonfly home. Of course, now I had to google it and what do you know. You will never guess what a white and black dragonfly represents.
This is what I read “It’s rare for a dragonfly to be white. In most cases, white is paired with other contrasting colors, like black. Some dragonflies that have white on them are the common whitetail and the long-tailed skimmer. White is a symbol of purity and innocence. So, white dragonflies are often compared to angels, and they’re a beautiful sight to encounter. White is also related to the seventh chakra, which has to do with your mental and physical capabilities. Some people see white dragonflies as a sign that someone you loved who has passed away is reaching out to you. However, the color lets you know that whatever pain and discomfort that person faced in the past is now gone. You’ll feel relieved and at peace if a white dragonfly comes your way. White dragonflies could also be there to remind you not to focus on pain, anguish, and death. Instead, these critters are there to help you focus on love and happiness in life. They remind you that you can still miss your loved ones while also enjoying a fulfilled life.”Cited from https://www.color-meanings.com/dragonfly-color-symbolism/.
And this is what I read regarding what a dead dragonfly represents “Further, the Native Americans perceived dragonflies as the “souls of the dead” so a dragonfly visitation around a loved one’s death could well signify the loved one’s soul taking form in the spirit of dragonfly. It offers the assurance their soul is free” Cited from https://www.maplehillchapels-talarskifuneralhome.com/red-dragonflies#:~:text=Further%2C%20the%20Native%20Americans%20perceived,assurance%20their%20soul%20is%20free.
And also, “Spiritual Meaning of Seeing Dead Dragonfly: The sight of a dead dragonfly may evoke a range of emotions and leave you wondering about its deeper spiritual meaning. Dragonflies with their ethereal beauty and delicate wings, have long been regarded as symbols of change and transformation. In various cultures and spiritual beliefs they carry profound significance often associated with the soul the spirit realm and the cycles of life and death.” Cited from https://gangapurcityportal.com/spiritual-meaning-of-seeing-dead-dragonfly/
WHAT. Like is this real life? I now have that dragonfly framed in my dining room. I truly believe that was a message from my Dad and it was what I really needed in that moment. When we went to England last year and laid my Dad to rest with his family. My Aunt made me 2 beaded dragonflies to match the one I found. One that stays with my Dad on his grave and one for me to have at home. I could never thank her enough for this. It’s one of my most prized possessions that hangs on my wall beside the framed real one I found. She also told me something that has stuck with me since she said it. I can’t recite it word for word. But the day we laid him to rest it was very windy and to comfort me my Auntie said to me when it’s windy that it’s our loved ones talking to us. These 2 things have stuck with me. Every time I feel the breeze on my skin or see a Dragonfly pass by. I have a sense of comfort.
If you’ve made it this far – thanks for reading! I have typed quite a bit. I guess I’ve had a lot to say and I could go on and on but just know my Dad was seriously the best Daddy. He was one in a million and if you ever got the chance to meet him. I guarantee you will never forget him. He had a big personality. As time goes on, I will do my damnedest to keep his legacy going and make him proud. I love you Dad, so so so so much. You are forever my missing piece in my heart.
P.S. The name of this blog was inspired by the mini movie my Dad made of us when we were kids “The missing piece”. Another one of the many creative things he did. Here it is if you wanted to watch: missing piece on Vimeo.
With love signing off now,
Sally
xoxo
