Guest Blogger: My Brother

my dad and brother would take these road trips.. they drove route 66 into new mexico one weekend.. just on a whim.. they went to disneyland (just the two of them).. they camped and visited friends.. and went on a trip to tombstone.. i don't know whose idea this photo was.. i am sure it was my dads (see like watching nature for the solo photo taken years earlier) but it is one of my favorites... anyone can see the camaraderie and friendship between the two

if you have read my blog for any amount of time then you know that my brother plays a big part in it... because as much as this is my blog.. my dad was OUR dad.. so i could never leave his views or experiences out of it.. for past blog posts featuring my brother see:

brother bear, mine, his, ours and we are

i woke up this morning to an amazing surprise.. a guest blog email from none other... it was so hard to read because we don't really talk about this.. we try to think about the good times.. and i think we worry about protecting each other's feelings.. but it made me think about something i learned over the weekend..i am in training to volunteer for hospice... and in our first training we talked a little about the dying process.. we were told to listen to the patients in their process of passing.. we should take it seriously if they are talking to people that have passed before or if they are reaching out.. our dad waved into the corner.. my mom asked if he was waving to the angels.. he nodded yes... we were also told that hearing is the last sense to go.. so they can hear us even if they do not respond.. my brother and i took turns telling our dad that we would be okay, that he can rest.. it was not permission to die.. never that.. it was the understanding that this cancer had taken his body and my God we would miss him and hurt for him but we didn't want him to struggle... or worry about us in his last hours.. he waited till my brother and i left the room to pass.. and in my brother's writing of his last words to our dad i fully believe he heard him.. and was proud of his strength.. and as much as he didn't want to leave us.. knew.. we would be okay...

and i am so proud of him for doing this.. for putting his feelings into words.. into taking such a cathartic step.. so without further ado.. my brother's words

I always think back to his sick days and I feel like it’s healthy to write a little about it. The first time I found out my dad was sick was a week after we went to go see Gran Torino and my dad was shaving and told me, “hey don’t I look like Clint Eastwood?” The day before he told me I had went with him to a doctor’s appointment, he said to come with him inside where the doctor was going to talk to him, then he told me “maybe you should just wait outside”, I began to worry. Let’s skip through to the part where they told me. It was a Saturday after the doctor’s appointment and I felt something was weird, as my mom and dad and I sat down to eat breakfast my mom said “your dad has cancer.” I looked at my dad and cried and ran outside then called my sister right away, she explained to me he will be having surgery and everything will be okay.

The night of my dad’s surgery I remember doing the most stupid thing ever. I smoked pot. I guess I felt like this was the thing to do at a time like this, I was wrong and I told my sister and she was very upset and I trashed the weed that night. The surgery, as we were waiting in the waiting room I was just anxious I wanted it to be over already. We got to see my dad before he went into surgery and I cried, he told me “I will be alright and I’ll see you when I get out.” I left my dad and went outside, I needed fresh air. Just then my cousins Mike and Gj and Jr came to get me and we went to eat. When my dad got out of surgery I felt so much better, happy and thanking God. Thinking to myself that everything’s over now, but I was wrong. The doctors tested my dad again and found that there was more cancer and it spread. I couldn't believe it and started blaming God. After the doctors tried treatment a couple different times, my dad became very weak and I hated it but as long as the cancer would go away he needed to keep doing it. I was let down those times the treatments failed I had hoped something would work. It didn't.

My dad gave his life to Christ, September of 2009. He was so full of hope and we had an angel with us, Gilbert Castillo (Gj). He did so much for my dad, he loved him so much and my dad loved him, Gj was at our house everyday praying and keeping my dad full of hope. When my dad was coming to his last days Gj was suppose to go on a trip with his soon to be wife, my dad told Gj “Go have a good time.” My dad didn't care about himself; he wanted Gj to have a good time.

Another angel sent to us was Natalie Zaragoza, she would take my dad to all the appointments and treated my dad as if he were hers. It seemed like she always knew what to do. (I’m not trying to leave people out, the others I didn't mention you know who you are).

The last day, I remember everyone coming over. My Tia Kinney played the guitar, I guess to make his final breath peaceful. As everyone was in the room my mom begged my dad to get up and drink coffee begged and cried, and just told him to get up. I finally did the hardest thing ever, I stood up and gave my dad a hug and told him “dad, you can go now, you can go dad, we will be okay, mom will be okay, you don’t have to fight anymore. dad you fought hard enough dad now you just rest”(11:00pm). My dad did not pass away until 3:35am he waited and still fought to his last breath.

My dad left me with his personality as I’m told by some people. He left and touched so many people’s hearts and left spaces in their hearts as well. To this day I always have my dad with me. I know God is preparing a place for me in heaven so I can be with my dad. I wish I could just hug him and tell him I love him and tell him thank you one last time, but I know the next time we meet it will be forever.

adventures of a fishing vest

my dad decided to give fly fishing a try.. my husband lent him some waders and he caught a few bass..when he returned home (back to AZ) he apparently purchased a fly fishing vest..i didn't know about it until i was home with him for his last few months of life... some nights i would get into his closet and smell his shirts... when he was sick he didn't quite smell like himself.. and i longed for the dust mixed with stetson and leather smell that seemed to cling to him all the time... while in his closet one night while everyone slept i found the vest.. it was in the very back and the tags were still on it... i don't know when he bought it or why he never used it.. but there it hung...

when he passed i took a few things home with me... i have his rusty spurs, the belt buckle he would have been burred with..and the vest...

it hung in my closet for this year and some months until my husband and i decided to take this impromptu fishing trip... i packed sandwich fixings, threw an extra pair of underwear and a toothbrush in a bag..then at the last moment packed the vest.. when i took the tags off i was overcome with the sense that my dad had touched them... they were just price tags.. but no one else had touched them.. just him.. and me... i put the tags into a little box and we were off...

we got there and i set up camp, alone, in under 30 mins.. annoyed with mosquitoes and a lazy bones hubby... but proud too... i set off to look for dry wood and find the river..

when we decided to hike out to the river and do some fishing i loaded up the vest... i don't fly fish so the vest held my eye drops, chapstick, bug spray, dean koontz book and inhaler.. i deemed it my "swiss army vest"... no fish were caught.. we had ramen noodles for dinner

all went well until the second day when we got up and made coffee and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches... i missed my dad's camp breakfasts.. eggs, potatoes, sausage, tortillas (he or my mom would make that for at least one morning)... we fished and fished.. and still nothing.. but it was too quiet... and even with the hubs right next to me i felt.. alone... we target shot the pistol.. and i did well.. i called my mom to check in.. but realized after i hung up that i really wanted to talk to my dad.. i was just missing him so much..

i love to be out in nature.. i feel closer to him there.. but this trip seemed to put him farther away... doing the things he loved.. without him.. with so many reminders around us (the vest, the camp chair, the coffee percolator, the fillet knife, and countless other supplies he'd given us though the years) it just seemed wrong to do it without him...

on our fishless way home i thought about the bugs and the many mosquito bites i would be scratching after a shower washed the grime away, i thought of the way i took down camp in under 20 mins!.. and i realized this trip was without complaint (a miracle in and of itself.. because i am the queen of whine).. i was sore and achy.. tired and dirty.. and as much as i missed my papa...i was also proud of myself.. and i know he would have been too

Happy birthday Papa!

this is the birthday boy.. may 10th 2009..we only had a handful of months left with him and in the back of our minds we wondered if this would be his last..

those, however, were not his balloons.. they were the one's he got my mom 4 days before, for her birthday... he thought holding them was a cute idea.. i remember this day like it was yesterday.. i wish it was... he is missed every day of my life.. but even more so on special days..

today would have been my dad's 63rd birthday.. it is the second time we are marking this day without him.. tonight my husband and i are going to go fishing and then we are going to share memories over pie... birthday's are strange when the person you are celebrating is gone... that need to mark the day is still there... we are all just so scared that he will be forgotten.. but.. that can never happen.. my dad touched so many people's lives and huge spaces are left in so many people that he won't ever be forgotten.. his was a life that was lived so fully and with so much heart that the mark he left on this world is truly permanent...like a stain.. haha

i didn't expect it when i started blogging, but more and more of you are getting to know him as well..for my newer readers.. i had posted a series of "5 things" .. they were lists of 5 things you should know about my daddy... and to celebrate his life today i am reposting them and creating a list entitled:

15 things you should know about my dad- plus a few more

1. my dad was not afraid of the tighty whiteys... he would open the door in them.. unashamed.. and more focused on the reason you are at the door to begin with... when he was getting very thin and his shorts fell down in the front lawn (can you call rocks a lawn?) he just grinned.. and said the breeze felt nice....
2. my dad loved to dance (let me quantify this a bit more.. not so much actual dancing.. more like silly movements to music)... it was not surprising to catch him doing a little jig to whatever music was in his head.. and if there was actual music.. watch out!
3. my dad loved music- our lives were filled with music.. many times he would start singing and after a while we would all join in... sometimes he would sit and strum his guitar and my brother would get out his keyboard and it would sound just horrible! when his mp3 player was full of battery power, he was in his own little world of cindy lauper and old country
4. my dad was strong... not in the way that most girls except their dads to be.. i mean STRONG... naturally strong.. he definitely had a steel working bull riding grip.. holding his hand when he prayed, even in his last days, felt like holding an anvil...
5. my dad was happiest outdoors.. hunting.. fishing... camping... even simply sitting on the porch... he was like an ocean mammal.. he had to get out for air in order to live..what i think he got out of it... is what i am ever in search of.. freedom...
6. never ask him for help with homework: my dad was probably too smart for his own good... he watched too much PBS... my brother and i asked him as a last resort....you know.. when you are just trying to get done... you just want to go to bed... but you have one last thing to do and it is stumping you...so you get desperate.. and ask him... well settle in.. it's going to be a while... my favorite example is when i was working on dividing fractions... and he told me the history of fractions!!!! the history!!!!!
7. sometimes he really DIDN'T know: you could have asked my dad anything... ANYTHING... and he would know the answer.. as a little girl.. i thought he really did know everything... as an adult... i saw just how much he made up... yup.. made up... my brother didn't believe me... we were trying to remember who sings the theme song for Toy Story (randy newman, the laziest song writer alive).... but dad said john sebastian... he answered with so much conviction..we laughed and said he'd made it up... he never admitted to making up that name... he said Google was wrong....
8. he watched ANYONE who performed on Austin City Limits: on the last list i wrote about how much he loved music.. well this included horrible bands like Cold Play.. simply because they played Austin City Limits... i had a bit of a crush on Paolo Nutini... before i knew his name i called him the hot Scottish guy... from the other side of the house i heard "the hot Scottish guy is on!!!!"... when i got there he was laughing... "just kidding, it's willie nelson again"
9. he hated The Simpsons: few things really got his goat... i will never know if he actually ever watched an episode...i think he would have thought it was funny.. but his heels were dug in and he stuck to it....i was grown.. an adult... visiting from Michigan... i was up late watching the simpsons... he walked in and started yelling at me (me....an adult.. married.. living a half a country away)..... i giggled and blew it off.. until he woke up my mom to tell on me.....
10. he personified IRON WILL: he woke up at 4am to go to work... some mornings i would be awake to and watched him drive away from my bedroom window.. i felt so sorry for him... to have to go to work in the dark....some days he came home with burned holes in his shirt or skin! (welding).... he worked really hard for us for so many years.... i think it had to be the will to work... when he was in his wheelchair... he did everything he could to still walk to the bathroom.. he would lock his legs... even if was just a few steps... when he pulled himself on and off the wheel chair.... it was will.. sheer will...
11. my dad was never bored: he could easily amuse himself... usually by making some kind of animal call with his mouth.. his favorite was a javelina call.. one particularly uneventful fishing trip comes to mind... on one side of the lake sat my dad, myself, my brother and my husband.. on the other was a pair of men... then after an entire day of nibbles my dad begins to call in these phantom javelina... the men across the lake didn't realize that the horrible sound was coming from my dad.. they looked left and right for the large hairy pig.. when they realized it was my dad they laughed in relief and we all called it a day...
12. he liked trying new things: on one trip to San Fransisco he talked us all into trying "authentic" Chinese food... lets just say it involved a few live things.. and some tepid octopus... not to mention the time he decided to take up skate boarding and went out and bought himself a skate board complete with vicious looking cobra on the deck
13. he loved kids: before i came along he doted on his nieces and nephews.. each of us, it seems, had our own song... most didn't have words.. just a cute little tune.. either way.. we were all very special to him
14. he didn't drink: he sipped... he nursed.. possibly before i was born and in his younger years he did.. but what i like about this is that he didn't need to.. he was fun and laid back all on his own... he was real.. all the time
15. he was slow: he drove slow, ate slow, walked slow.. and it drove people nuts... i am sure it drove me nuts a time or two... but now when i think about it, i can appreciate it... that he didn't rush through life... he was always stopping to smell the roses...
16. he had tiny teeth... i don't know why or how but his teeth were little.. but.. he made up for it with a huge warm smile
17. he had little hands (i have little hands) short stubby fingers... but i miss them the most.. i miss the roughness of them and the strength within them.. those seemingly small stout hands could have and sometimes did carry the world
18. he could sneeze you out of a car... his truck(s) were always dusty.. and it never failed.. anytime you got into the cab with him he would sneeze.. a sneeze that would literally fog you out.. no matter how close you leaned to the window...
19. he was a man of few words... he didn't say a whole lot... he was quiet and patient and just sat there and took things in.. but when he had something to say.. i don't think anyone could NOT listen..

happy birthday papa!

journal part 5

here we are nearing the end of this journal series and finally a break! (next and last entry of this series will be memorial day) i was telling my cousin the other day that i kind of regret starting this series...it is bad enough dealing with the way i feel now.. but here i am torturing myself with reliving the way i was feeling then...

this entry was written a couple of days before i went home for a few weeks...i was blessed to be able to spend his last birthday with him... i also got to spend a mother's say with my mom and her birthday too... this hadn't happened in too long

rereading this entry makes me think of the anticipation of his birthday..some of us wanted to have a big party.. invite everyone.. but my brother vetoed that idea... in the same way that he wasn't ready for me to come home.. he also wasn't ready to consider the possibility of it being his last birthday... i was constantly walking this fine line of staying logical and trying not to hide from what God had put in front of us... but also being positive for my brother who wiped all possibility of death from his mind.. he was stubborn in the way he chose to look in the opposite direction... this was the way he chose to cope till our papa's last day of life... what i tried to tell him in order to prepare him yet not burst the protective bubble he'd put around himself was that we were given a gift of sorts.. God was saying "hey look, it may be 30 days or 30 years, but one day i am taking him"... and we were so lucky to at least have that knowledge and cherish our 30 days or 30 years... this logic comforted me.. but would send my brother in a fit of furry... i changed my tactic after this trip home.. i adopted his positivity and hope.. for all of them..

4/31/2009

Dad,

i am trying to sort my feelings out today. i will be with you in 2 days. shouldn't i be excited? i want to feel excited, instead of scared or this nervousness that takes over. i am not sure why i feel this way but i think it could be that i am afraid that when i see you this inevitability will seem all too real. i won't be able to hide from it if i am standing face to face with you and what you have inside of you. i also think that i will have to face my control issues. here i feel helpless and frustrated that there is nothing that i can do, but i can rationalize by telling myself "if i was only there..." but once i get there i will have to deal with the reality that there really is nothing that i can do.

funny, i was talking to mom and she said (my brother) is not excited for me to come. that he is acting apprehensive. i know he is feeling the same way. i know that me coming home makes this too real for him. he also wants nothing but positivity and hope and he knows how my mind works. i am coming home armed to take him on! here we are feeling the same exact way but pretending not to be.

you sure did make some interesting kids dad. what we lack in quantity we make up in quality. we are strong, bull headed, overly opinionated and hot tempered. i wonder if you see that and although most of those traits are not great things, i hope you are proud of us anyway.

journal part 4

when papa bought this jeep it was the ugliest bright orange monstrosity i'd ever seen... but it was loud and maybe that's all that mattered... in a matter of months it was so pretty.. cream paint.. heavy duty tow bar and back hitch... it even had these switches where a radio might go that turned on lights and fans.. i am sure they had a bigger purpose but i just enjoyed pretending to be in a space ship.. i was probably much to old to be playing make believe with that thing.. but it was fun none the less.. the seats perpetually smalled of dust and dirt from so much off roading... it smelled amazing.. like the desert

this photo is of my mom, dad and brother bear at the river bottom.. picture perfect day don't you think?

that jeep...we had so much fun on that thing... not just the trips and death defying maneuvers but there were little things i remember.. when the far off clouds looked just a smidgen darker than the ones over head my dad would invite us for a ride... to go look for rain... some nights he'd pile us girl cousins into it and drive to an abandoned burned up house on van buren ave. and tell us ghost stories...

dad had taken a photo of it and framed it.. a photo of just the jeep.. that still makes me giggle... anyway... april 2009 was also the month when he sold it... we were dealing with so much with the progression that the cancer had taken... the selling of the jeep affected me and it became the topic of the 3rd letter in my journal.. the selling of this jeep lead to the most vivid real dream i have ever had of my tata (maternal grandfather).. i will go on any record in saying that it was more than a dream.. losing my tata so many years ago was such a shock to my young mind and affected me in ways that i am only now understanding though the loss of my dad...this was more than a dream.. it was a message, a visitation if you believe in that kind of thing...

april 26, 2009

dad,

you sold the jeep to mark (my cousin) yesterday. i was so sad. i remember the day you brought it home. it was the brightest color orange i had ever seen. i remember when i was standing behind it and it back fired on my inner thigh. i was crying and you put a cold soda on my leg. did you know i still have black bits embedded in my thigh from that day?

last night i couldn't quiet my mind. the memories just kept flooding in. the worst part is all this made me realize that one day you will only been in my memories as well. it breaks my heart to know that i will only see you in pictures and will never get to hug your flesh and bone again. when i finally did fall asleep i did not deem of you. i dreamed of tata. it was so real dad. i could smell him. it was so clear and vivid that it left me with so many emotions today.

in the dream emilio (my brother) and i are sleeping in the living room of the old house in tolleson. emilio is on the sofa, which mom would hate, and i am on the recliner chair. tata is sitting on the coffee table and he is watching emilio sleep. he shakes his head as if to indicate that he can't believe how much he has grown (my tata passed when my brother was very young and at the point in this dream he is 15 years old and very very tall). he sees that i see him and he motions me to him, i hug him and i feel the rough cotton of his brown flannel shirt against my cheek. i breathe in the oil on his hair and the cigarette smoke in the fibers of his shirt and i cry, and cry. i tell him i don't want to lose you. i say that i don't ever want to miss you the way that i miss him. he takes my face in his hands and starts to say something and i can't hear him. i tell him i can't hear him and he just shakes his head and looks away but there are tears in his eyes. and then i wake up. when i woke up my pillow and face were wet. i was crying in my sleep.

i tried to fall back to sleep and i succeeded but every dream i had after that was of you.

i know why i dreamed of you and tata. i am angry at you dad. i am angry that you sold the jeep. i understand why you sold it. you weren't using it and it does deserve to be used but right now, at this point, it feels too much like you are tying up loose ends and i am not ready for that.

i practice this conversation in my head sometimes. in this conversation i say that it is okay to give up the fight, it is okay to stop the chemo. i tell you that i would rather you feel good for the time you have left on this earth. i wondered if practicing this conversation meant that i was getting stronger in my understanding of all this. i wondered if maybe i was ready to let you go. but that is not what it means at all. what it means is that i am scared to see you sick. that i don't want to see my big strong dad sick and fragile. but is our need to see you strong causing you to ignore your body? could we push you to go too far with treatments simply by needing you?

i will see you in 6 days dad. i can't wait but i would be lying to say that i wasn't scared. i am more than that dad, i am terrified!

it's funny.. just after my dad passed i had to come back to michigan and back to school.. my last semester in school had started and my last class was a writing class... the instructor would give us an off topic to write about.. like our favorite place to play as a child...i thought i had written about my mom and dad's closet but when i read it over i realized it was about the smell of leather.. boots and belts and morphed into a piece about my dad and the way smell is ingrained in us from birth and that in Heaven i will know him by smell... i bring this class up because i think that is what happened here.. i began to write the letter in regards to him selling the jeep but that lead to my admittance of fear.. and what i was really afraid of... i understood death was a natural part of life.. i never asked "why him"... but i was so afraid of feeling that loss again.. that longing i still have for my tata... and the fear of seeing the man i needed most.. helpless... then ultimately questioning the concept of "fight" in terms of cancer...

anyway.. there are 2 more entries that i plan to share.. one on the 31st and the last on memorial day.. i haven't read them since i wrote them so i am a bit apprehensive to see what other realizations i have yet to unleash..

journal part 3

yesterday my husband and i went to see the latest disney earth day release called african cats... over the past 3 installments it has become a tradition that we see these documentaries opening weekend... the theater was almost empty so i didn't hide my dorky "oooohs" and "aaahhhhs" at some of the cooler moments.. like the high speed camera usage during the cheetah chase scenes or the cute yawns of the lion cubs.... the plan was after the early movie i would put a roast in the crock pot and he would go out hunting.. instead we were attached at the hip for most of the day.. he even stood next to me while i did dishes.... then just before dinner was ready the conversation started.. i don't know who started it...but we talked about dad... he wanted me to recount his last night (as he was unable to be there at the bedside but came a few days later)... who was there? what did you do? how did you feel?..."do you miss him:?" i asked.. "of course" he answered and i understood our clingy-ness after the movie.. that was their thing... dad and my husband.. they would call each other after knowing one had gone hunting.. they would talk on the phone till the batteries ran out of one of their cell phones.. sometimes dad would call and after a quick hello would tell me to give my husband the phone..i would jokingly throw a hissy fit but i loved it... he was missing dad after watching the movie.. i was too... i grew up on religious taping of marty stouffer's wild america and nature on pbs... watching any nature show ultimately makes me think of dad... apparently it had the same effect on my husband as well.. so while it was easter and i have many easter memories of my dad, mostly seeing him at the grill... what brought him to mind this time was what he loved most.. nature... happy earth day indeed!

so this is the journal entry i promised in the last post... it was written on april 23rd.. it was the second entry in the journal that i am now trying to reclaim.. i was avoiding him.. i checked in with my mom or cousin for updates.. but i hadn't spoken to him an a while... dialing the phone sent me into a panic... and i would sob uncontrollability... i spent many hours of the days curled up and my poor husband didn't know what to do for me.. it's a helpless feeling that sends me into panic mode..there was nothing the doctors could do.. nothing he could do.. nothing i could do...

April 23, 2009

Dad,

i haven't talked to you since the day we got that last bit of bad news. i am just not strong enough yet. i don't want to bring you down with my crying and negativity, but at the same time i just want to hear your voice. even if it is just to talk about the weather, like most of our conversations end up. i hate being so far away from you but i think me being here has forced us to talk in ways we never have before. when i am home we are perfectly content to be in the same room together. although i have always taken comfort in our ability to just be with each other and not rely on idle conversation.

(my husband) and i are at each other's throats lately. we are both dealing with the guilt of being so far. and as much as i hate to say it out loud i have wondered if it was worth it. if he was worth leaving my family, leaving you. i love him so much but i am losing you, not him. but here i am stupidly writing a letter that will never be sent. i can not even find the bravery to pick up the phone and talk to you. i really am trying to find strength. and do you know what helped today, of all things? i talked to (my brother) today. i called to check on him, to say i am here for him, but instead he ended up comforting me. he is becoming such a young man. he is stoic and logical like you. i never want you to worry about him dad. i have loved that kid more than my own life since he was born. i could promise that i will always take care of him, but i think it is more realistic to say we will end up taking care of each-other.

good night dad, i love you... oh and it was warm today.. about 60 degrees

journal part 2

this is my daddy TWO DAYS after his nephrectomy surgery (kidney removal) my husband wasn't able to be there for the surgery but came two days later... my dad insisted we take him out to the desert for a walk (this was the kind of time he enjoyed spending with my husband) ... he wasn't able to walk but sat in his chair, in his pj pants and watched us and the wild animals frolic... it is such a precious memory of my papa's strength and devotion to his kids... he would have truly done anything for us... if strong will and love for family could keep someone alive he would surely still be with us

my husband bought me a journal for one of our anniversaries...i loved it.. i carried it around everywhere just in case the need to write should arise.. i wrote very small to keep from using too many pages.... there is something about a journal that makes you feel important.. the thoughts that are in my head are so important and life changing that i must write them down.. least they do not fulfill their purpose of changing the world.. right? if you write then you know what i am saying.. we write because we secretly hope that after we are long gone someone will find our life altering words hidden away and a new course of history will be attributed to us.... so this journal (leather bound and studded) had it's pages ripped out in april... i burned everything i had written in it prior to the day in april when it became UNSENT letters to my papa.. there are only 7 letters starting in april 2009 and a final one in march 2011 just before i started this blog... (october's letter is written under "journal part 1")..there are not many entries i think because so much wasn't being acknowledged.. my honesty about fear was there but i think i was too scared to write sometimes.. to scared that ink on paper would make it too real... so today starts the april letter series in my attempt to get my journal back.. to once again use it for trite coffee house musings and poorly written poetry... in effort to come full circle in a way.. and as always to honor my daddy...

in april 2009 my dad had been formally diagnosed.. he had already had his kidney and mother tumor removed.. at this point the pathology report came back with bleak news...there would be no cure.. only treatments that were unlikely to work.. up until this point death was not an option.. it was as simple as removing the kidney... we all thought that would be the end of this... our hope was that the nodes visible in his lungs would go away after the main tumor was gone... that obviously did not happen...

for newer readers- understand that i did not live, nor do i currently life, in the same state as my family... much travelling was done..and phone calls.. but i also had the advantage of being able to hide from this every once and while... while i also had the disadvantage of being alone in this...

april 2009

Dad,

i cut out all of the pages in my journal. i can't help but feel like nothing else really mattered before this. i haven't been able to fall asleep without distractions, otherwise i am bound to cry all night. i just can't believe it, but at the same time my all too logical mind won't let me believe in miracles. you are dying. i say it over and over again. my dad is dying. and when i am not thinking about it i feel guilty for allowing myself to be so easily distracted (by tv or music). and when i begin to feel guilty everything comes our into a fight of some sort. i have lost so much precious time with you, i have lost 6 years of making memories. how was i to know the end would come so quickly? how many birthday's have i missed? your bithday is next month and all i can can think is please God don't let it be your last.

i ended that first entry abruptly.. and i can still so vividly remember what i was thinking.. "just stop ana marie" .. just stop..s top crying.. stop being a baby.. stop being negative.. stop being so weak! i struggled with the way i was feeling.. i struggled to allow myself to feel it... in the end.. i stopped... and i kept stopping.. like i said.. today is the first of the april journal entries.. so expect another on the 23rd, 26th and 31st... i expect this will be quite an emotional month...