Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Lament


Woe is me, woe is me. I’m losing my best friend, I’m losing my Dad. I haven’t been given a date or a death sentence time limit, but I’m losing him all the same. His body is failing him and now his mind has decided to join in as well, like some treacherous turncoat. He has fed and nurtured both of them, and now they have turned their back on him, cast him aside like they’ve had a better offer elsewhere.

I don’t believe in God, but I blame him anyway. How dare he do this to him, he’s done nothing wrong, he’s one of the good guys. He has sweated his tabs off all of his life, supported his Wife and three kids. Gone without himself, just to provide. So now it’s his turn to relax, to enjoy life, to sit back and smell the roses or the hydrangeas. But no, you have other plans for him. You want to give him this disease, that disease. He beats those so you throw something else at him. Coping with that are you, here you go, how’s losing your ability to read suit you? Breathing is easy, we’ll see about that then. You want more, I’ve got more for you. What indignity do you fancy this week? No don’t go and guess, go spend a week in the hospital instead, let’s see what the Doctors can discover. Let’s see how far I can push you before you snap and crumble.

FUCK YOU GOD. You’re a bully, a sick deity, a friendless figment of the weak’s imagination. No family, no Wife. You had to kill your own son for some company. Are we paying for your sins because you slept with Joseph’s wife and had a bastard son? You may have taken my Dad’s voice, but I still have mine. You’re a coward, I hate you.

I didn’t realise that grief was so selfish. I sit here thinking about how it’s going to affect me, how much I will miss him. How it will be so unfair on me to lose him, miss his advice, his stories. How am I going to cope, how will I get through the week of the funeral. Me, me, me, me, me. I can’t stop and imagine what it’s like in his shoes, they’re too big for me to fill. I haven’t got the guts, I’m not strong enough. I see you, I cry. I think about you, I cry. I write about you, I cry.

Am I mourning you before you’ve gone? I guess I am. Maybe I think it will make it easier to cope with when it happens, I’m betting it won’t though. I used to say that a Grandparent dying was a child’s introduction to death, they would be sad, but they would move on. I was young, blasé and childless when I said that. It’s just that I have kids now, and their Grandfather is my Dad and I’m not so blasé anymore. You’re not an introduction, you’re my beginning, my middle, and now you’re end.

I haven’t given up on you, but I would never blame you for giving up. Too much hurt, too much pain, not enough time. Time’s a bitch, always being wasted, being passed, never appreciated until it’s too clichéd and too late.

I leave my hate on this page.

I leave my love in your heart.

26 comments:

Rachel Lucie Johns said...

so so sorry to read what you are going through.

so eloquently put, I can't disagree with any of it. I hope writing it has helped, if even in only a tiny way.

my thoughts are with you all at such a sad and difficult time
Rachel x

Cate P said...

A beautiful, heartfelt, frustrated, loving, despairing tribute, perfectly expressed.
Give him a hug from me, and keep one for yourself J.
xxoo

PantsWithNames said...

Really sorry to hear about your Dad and an amazing post to express how you are feeling. I hope it helped you to write it. x

Laura - Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy? said...

Just want you to know I'm thinking of you x

Tara said...

I'm sure you're no looking for words of comfort so just wanted to same I came, I read and I'm thinking of you x

Kerry said...

I just wanted you to know that I have read and I am thinking of you and I agree with everything you said. I am so sorry x

Trish @ Mum's Gone to... said...

My dad has been declining for the last 16 years with Motor Neurone Disease, ever since he retired. All those plans my parents had to travel and enjoy their time together have been replaced by a slow progression of his illness with my exhausted mum his prime carer.

As a family we also rage against the unfairness of it: we become frustrated and angry and yet it's my dad who copes with it all with such dignity.

You have my sympathy, Jamie. It's so very hard x

Curvaceous Queen said...

Be as selfish as you need to be but don't forget to give thanks for your best friend. Much strength to you all.

Emma said...

Much Love Jamie x

Insomniac Mummy said...

I don't have any words, so will just leave you a ((huge hug)).

xxxxxxx

The Dotterel said...

Damn, that's awful news Jamie, I'm so sorry.

London City Mum said...

What Cate P said.

I am at a loss for words, but thinking of you.

Big hug
LCM x

Welshracer said...

ah yes, been there done that as you will know.

Yes it will be frustrating and annoying and you will shout and scream etc.

But all you can do is offer your best and just let them know you care about them.

I now have peace of mind now my Dad rests in peace. It worth it sticking to it and never giving up and always remember the fun times and laugh.

Deer Baby said...

Very powerful and straight from the heart. Life is so cruel. I'm losing my Dad too - in his case dementia. Just spent four days with him and it was awful to see him so confused, so broken. I haven't believed in God since I was 9.

I'm sending you strength and my thoughts. Hoping you find some peace.

Russ said...

Keep strong Jamie! My wife is dealing with some similar stuff with her grandmother (not really the same, I know but it is still family). Her family is at a loss of what to do as well.

Very Bored in Catalunya said...

Ah Jamie, don't know what to say really. A very emotive post, brilliantly written.

Thinking of you. x

PhotoPuddle said...

I really wish there was something really helpful or comforting I could say that would take away the pain. Instead I'll just send lots of love and say my thoughts are with you and your family.

Sarah Ebner said...

So sorry to read your post. Not much I can say, except that I'm sure your dad appreciates your love and that I am thinking of you both.

sgneist said...

Nothing I can say - been there, too close for comfort. My dear mum didn't even get to meet her grandchildren. So sad and, yes, so unfair.

Heather said...

shit. I'm so sorry mate. xx

Looking for Blue Sky said...

I lost my Mum in a similar way, it was horrible. I just hope that writing this beautiful piece helped you a bit.

Hot Cross Mum said...

I don't know you, I can't feel your utter desperation, but I lost my mum this way so understand a little of what you say. I hope the words you found to express your feelings help in some, small way. x

themommydaddy said...

I can't say anything to make you feel better or to make this go away. No one can.

And, if it were me, I'd feel very lonely at the thought of losing someone so close to me.

He sounds like a great man and, if sometime in the future you feel up to it, could you write a post about his life for us to read? I know I'd like to learn more about him.

I don't know how to end this comment, so I just will.

Hang in there.

Sandy Calico said...

I'm so so sorry. Thinking of you x

Wendy aka Quillfeather said...

I'm so very sorry to hear, Jamie. Life is unfair.

To watch someone you love slip away is indescribable.

Your dad will always be with you. In your heart and in the mirror. For, he, is part of you, as you, are a part of him.

Be strong my friend xx

Posh Totty said...

So sorry, sending love and hugs your way Xxxx