Blurb: Parts I - IV
Jan. 26th, 2019 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amorphousTitle: Parts I - IV
*PART I :: RESUSCITATED*
After a sixteen hour day at two jobs no one wants to be getting ready for bed and hear the words, “He was resuscitated,” instead of good night. It takes your breath away. It leaves your head spinning. All you can do is gather your things, pile into the car, pick up your sister, and race to the hospital. The car ride you've had so many times in the past few weeks feels like it takes forever as all you can think of is him.
As you all walk slowly to the halls, so familiar yet strange as you take new hallways to a new part of the hospital, you feel a lump forming in the back of your throat. This could have been the end. What if he hadn't made it and you never got to say goodbye? What ifs, regret, and fear clog your mind as you break through the doorway with no door but only a curtain for privacy instead.
Your eyes fall on him.
Your father.
He's alive but connected to so many machines. His strength isn't diminished by the mask in his face helping his breathe, but his words are lost. Overcome by something that wasn't quite relief and not quite grief or fear, tears run down your face unwanted as you collapse on top of him, hugging him and crying once again. Being the father he is, he tries to comfort you. He even tries to joke behind the mask.
That could have been the end and you may never had gotten that embrace.
*PART II :: DONUTS & TRAGEDY*
The dancer and delivery guy made you laugh as you try to push your stress and worries from your mind at work. It was going to be your last morning at your second job and after your third shift tonight you planned to camp at the hospital for a night to show your dad he was your priority. After over a month of catching naps on the hospital room floor and spending Christmas Eve and Christmas at a sterile hospital so he could have company, you were finally going to have real time to spend with him, to remind him you want to fight this battle with him and you believe he could beat cancer again. As you start to put up the donuts and other bakery products, the bell for the door rings, you chime out your standard hello, but receive only silence. Glancing up over the hot case, you freeze as you already know.
Your boss - long time family friend, too - stands by the counter behind the registers and your brother is coming over to you. His brown eyes were glassy with tears, his voice a mere whisper as says, “I'm sorry. He's gone.”
The world tumbles around you, cascading with disbelief, grief, shock, anger, and stupid donuts staring back at you. Backing away from your brother as if if you retreat and refuse to agree and just repeat “no,” over and over, then it won't be true. As if the hands that came up in front of you could ward off the truth. You back yourself up to the sink, hitting your head on the paper towel dispenser, and your “no” morphs to a pitiful “ow,” but not because it hurt.
Your boss nods slowly behind him and your brother tries to hug you, but you deflect and start to go over to your boss who is talking at you in what feels like a strange language you don't understand. He's telling you to go home, to be with your family, and you're numb.
You're numb and broken and slip onto the floor by the magazines as sobs rack your body all the sudden. A moment later, you get up as if you hadn't just dissolved into tears before their eyes and watch your brother tell your friend they saw walking up to come visit you to go and then call him back for your boss to discuss the schedule with him. Lost in a trance of numbing disbelief and grief, you try to gather your things with shaking hands and tears threatening again any moment.
As you shove outside, your thoughts move to your mom and sisters and you know you have to go to them. They need you now. Without a word, you walk by one of your best friends, who just watches you with sad, confused eyes.
You can't bring yourself to tell him what's wrong yourself. You can't bear to say the words, “my dad died.”.
*PART III :: RUNNING*
The small meeting at home left nothing but a painful emptiness, a numbing impatience, and a strange shock that had settled over your being. Conversation was forced and strangely on topic for your family who was normally the family of talking over each other, five different conversations going at once, and loudness that could be overwhelming to those who didn't grow up surrounded by it. The car ride was nearly unbearable. You knew logically where you were going, what you would heartbreakingly find, and everything else along the way, but it was still wrong.
The car ride was wrong.
Three cars pulled in almost at once, finding spots together was everyone started to tumble out of the doors. No one was in a hurry to go inside and face the inevitable.
Abruptly your sister’s car alarm filled the night air, echoing through the parking complex. It was a jerk, a shock to the system and all you could do was laugh. All you could do was laugh and think “only my family would set off the car alarm.”
Suddenly, you had the urge to leave them to go by yourself. Saying you had to go to the restroom, you went in by yourself knowing you started this journey by yourself, you'd continue it by yourself, and you'll complete it somehow by yourself. You knew in your core today wasn't the ending. The sun wasn't even up. Patients were sleeping behind closed doors with very few members of the staff milling around going about their morning tasks. The world was so quiet it was as if nothing was wrong despite everything changing.
Without forethought, you, the girl who never runs, start to suddenly pick up pace until you were sprinting down the halls. Twisting, turning, and dodging things in your path, your breathing and heartbeat start to speed up as if to catch up to the fast thoughts racing through your mind. You only slow down when you reach the entrance to his “room”.
The world stops.
On the other side of the closed curtain is your new life. It's an existence without your dad. It's a world without him and you know you’re not ready to face it. But you have to. Tears break through the barrier and slowly slide down your cheeks. There you are. Standing alone with silent tears staring at the curtain that's the only thing between you and your now dearly departed dad and a world without him.
It was all like it took so long but it only took you a second to reach up wipe your own tears, pull back the curtain to reveal the truth with the same hand, and see him. There he was. God, he looked… peaceful. Of course, they say a dead person could look like they were sleeping but somehow you still weren't prepared for it. He was real. He was there. It felt like he would open his eyes and look at you any moment.
But he didn't. He just laid their prone on his back.
He never slept in his back. He always slept on his side, normally curled up just a little with his knees bent and legs pulled up like you do.
He never slept in his back.
Throwing yourself forward, you crash into him with your arms around him and sobbing. Your tears are no longer silent and your pain is palpable as his chest doesn't move beneath your head. He's gone. He's really gone. His soul, his mind, his heart… the very essence of him is gone and all that's left is this familiar shell. You whisper a thousand things to him. You tell him you love him, you're sorry you weren't a better daughter, you wish you had made him proud, he was an amazing dad, you already miss him, and you'll help take care of your mom and family.
Hearing your family coming, you straighten up, dry your tears, and put on the bravest face you could.
*PART IV :: RIFLE SHELL*
The twenty one gun salute's gunfire echoes in the frigid stillness of the winter air. Snow hung on the empty tree branches and covered the ground white. The flag was folded and given to your mom with sadness and respect. The words were soft, muffled in your ears by distorted grief and denial. You were a long black dress, ankle boots, and light make up like you were dressing up for someone and maybe you were. But if you were, he wasn't there to see you.
His ashes were at the front yet you're the one who feels like you were thrown in a fire. Your whole world has been on fire since you heard while putting donuts in a case at work. The frozen town you walk through so easily burnt around you, causing flames memories and grief and smoke of feelings and tears. You couldn't escape the inferno of the strange sadness and the foreign emptiness no matter how hard you tried.
And oh how you tried to escape it.
Now watching everyone say one last goodbye you feel like you are standing in the blazing blue center of the flame, burning and being consumed whole so you are nothing but ashes of your former self.
You hug too many people; the embraces feel wrong and uncomfortable but you do it anyway. They are only doing what they think you need them too after all. Once everyone starts to slowly go back to their cars, you search the ground. Your friend asks you what you are looking for and then proceeds to help you look for one. A moment later, she reaches in the snow and holds up a shotgun shell for you.
Taking it, you wrap your fingers around the cold metal, knowing this was your last piece of him.
*PART I :: RESUSCITATED*
After a sixteen hour day at two jobs no one wants to be getting ready for bed and hear the words, “He was resuscitated,” instead of good night. It takes your breath away. It leaves your head spinning. All you can do is gather your things, pile into the car, pick up your sister, and race to the hospital. The car ride you've had so many times in the past few weeks feels like it takes forever as all you can think of is him.
As you all walk slowly to the halls, so familiar yet strange as you take new hallways to a new part of the hospital, you feel a lump forming in the back of your throat. This could have been the end. What if he hadn't made it and you never got to say goodbye? What ifs, regret, and fear clog your mind as you break through the doorway with no door but only a curtain for privacy instead.
Your eyes fall on him.
Your father.
He's alive but connected to so many machines. His strength isn't diminished by the mask in his face helping his breathe, but his words are lost. Overcome by something that wasn't quite relief and not quite grief or fear, tears run down your face unwanted as you collapse on top of him, hugging him and crying once again. Being the father he is, he tries to comfort you. He even tries to joke behind the mask.
That could have been the end and you may never had gotten that embrace.
*PART II :: DONUTS & TRAGEDY*
The dancer and delivery guy made you laugh as you try to push your stress and worries from your mind at work. It was going to be your last morning at your second job and after your third shift tonight you planned to camp at the hospital for a night to show your dad he was your priority. After over a month of catching naps on the hospital room floor and spending Christmas Eve and Christmas at a sterile hospital so he could have company, you were finally going to have real time to spend with him, to remind him you want to fight this battle with him and you believe he could beat cancer again. As you start to put up the donuts and other bakery products, the bell for the door rings, you chime out your standard hello, but receive only silence. Glancing up over the hot case, you freeze as you already know.
Your boss - long time family friend, too - stands by the counter behind the registers and your brother is coming over to you. His brown eyes were glassy with tears, his voice a mere whisper as says, “I'm sorry. He's gone.”
The world tumbles around you, cascading with disbelief, grief, shock, anger, and stupid donuts staring back at you. Backing away from your brother as if if you retreat and refuse to agree and just repeat “no,” over and over, then it won't be true. As if the hands that came up in front of you could ward off the truth. You back yourself up to the sink, hitting your head on the paper towel dispenser, and your “no” morphs to a pitiful “ow,” but not because it hurt.
Your boss nods slowly behind him and your brother tries to hug you, but you deflect and start to go over to your boss who is talking at you in what feels like a strange language you don't understand. He's telling you to go home, to be with your family, and you're numb.
You're numb and broken and slip onto the floor by the magazines as sobs rack your body all the sudden. A moment later, you get up as if you hadn't just dissolved into tears before their eyes and watch your brother tell your friend they saw walking up to come visit you to go and then call him back for your boss to discuss the schedule with him. Lost in a trance of numbing disbelief and grief, you try to gather your things with shaking hands and tears threatening again any moment.
As you shove outside, your thoughts move to your mom and sisters and you know you have to go to them. They need you now. Without a word, you walk by one of your best friends, who just watches you with sad, confused eyes.
You can't bring yourself to tell him what's wrong yourself. You can't bear to say the words, “my dad died.”.
*PART III :: RUNNING*
The small meeting at home left nothing but a painful emptiness, a numbing impatience, and a strange shock that had settled over your being. Conversation was forced and strangely on topic for your family who was normally the family of talking over each other, five different conversations going at once, and loudness that could be overwhelming to those who didn't grow up surrounded by it. The car ride was nearly unbearable. You knew logically where you were going, what you would heartbreakingly find, and everything else along the way, but it was still wrong.
The car ride was wrong.
Three cars pulled in almost at once, finding spots together was everyone started to tumble out of the doors. No one was in a hurry to go inside and face the inevitable.
Abruptly your sister’s car alarm filled the night air, echoing through the parking complex. It was a jerk, a shock to the system and all you could do was laugh. All you could do was laugh and think “only my family would set off the car alarm.”
Suddenly, you had the urge to leave them to go by yourself. Saying you had to go to the restroom, you went in by yourself knowing you started this journey by yourself, you'd continue it by yourself, and you'll complete it somehow by yourself. You knew in your core today wasn't the ending. The sun wasn't even up. Patients were sleeping behind closed doors with very few members of the staff milling around going about their morning tasks. The world was so quiet it was as if nothing was wrong despite everything changing.
Without forethought, you, the girl who never runs, start to suddenly pick up pace until you were sprinting down the halls. Twisting, turning, and dodging things in your path, your breathing and heartbeat start to speed up as if to catch up to the fast thoughts racing through your mind. You only slow down when you reach the entrance to his “room”.
The world stops.
On the other side of the closed curtain is your new life. It's an existence without your dad. It's a world without him and you know you’re not ready to face it. But you have to. Tears break through the barrier and slowly slide down your cheeks. There you are. Standing alone with silent tears staring at the curtain that's the only thing between you and your now dearly departed dad and a world without him.
It was all like it took so long but it only took you a second to reach up wipe your own tears, pull back the curtain to reveal the truth with the same hand, and see him. There he was. God, he looked… peaceful. Of course, they say a dead person could look like they were sleeping but somehow you still weren't prepared for it. He was real. He was there. It felt like he would open his eyes and look at you any moment.
But he didn't. He just laid their prone on his back.
He never slept in his back. He always slept on his side, normally curled up just a little with his knees bent and legs pulled up like you do.
He never slept in his back.
Throwing yourself forward, you crash into him with your arms around him and sobbing. Your tears are no longer silent and your pain is palpable as his chest doesn't move beneath your head. He's gone. He's really gone. His soul, his mind, his heart… the very essence of him is gone and all that's left is this familiar shell. You whisper a thousand things to him. You tell him you love him, you're sorry you weren't a better daughter, you wish you had made him proud, he was an amazing dad, you already miss him, and you'll help take care of your mom and family.
Hearing your family coming, you straighten up, dry your tears, and put on the bravest face you could.
*PART IV :: RIFLE SHELL*
The twenty one gun salute's gunfire echoes in the frigid stillness of the winter air. Snow hung on the empty tree branches and covered the ground white. The flag was folded and given to your mom with sadness and respect. The words were soft, muffled in your ears by distorted grief and denial. You were a long black dress, ankle boots, and light make up like you were dressing up for someone and maybe you were. But if you were, he wasn't there to see you.
His ashes were at the front yet you're the one who feels like you were thrown in a fire. Your whole world has been on fire since you heard while putting donuts in a case at work. The frozen town you walk through so easily burnt around you, causing flames memories and grief and smoke of feelings and tears. You couldn't escape the inferno of the strange sadness and the foreign emptiness no matter how hard you tried.
And oh how you tried to escape it.
Now watching everyone say one last goodbye you feel like you are standing in the blazing blue center of the flame, burning and being consumed whole so you are nothing but ashes of your former self.
You hug too many people; the embraces feel wrong and uncomfortable but you do it anyway. They are only doing what they think you need them too after all. Once everyone starts to slowly go back to their cars, you search the ground. Your friend asks you what you are looking for and then proceeds to help you look for one. A moment later, she reaches in the snow and holds up a shotgun shell for you.
Taking it, you wrap your fingers around the cold metal, knowing this was your last piece of him.
