Mourning

In 2015, my father lost his battle to cancer. He fought long and hard for 17 years. To say I am grateful to have had him as long as I did is an understatement. A previous blog post made it clear that I was and still am a daddy's girl. As he got sick and beat cancer as it moved throughout his body, I was with my mother every step of the way through his care. She didn't lean on me per say but she knew I would always be there throughout anything she dealt with.

Watching my father fight every time the cancer came back was stressful but also amazing. To know he would fight through something that totally destroyed him mentally, physically, and emotionally as well as killing his immune system just to have more time for his family was admirable. His cancer started in his colon, moved to his lung, his brain and then finally down his spine. Each time I lost a little of him but I was able to still have him.

Towards the end, he was a shell of the man I grew up idolizing. He had always been a self taught computer genius however that changed. He broke his computer. He couldn't fix it. He was the man who taught me how to do my taxes. How to take a computer apart and put it back together. He taught me math when I struggled. He pushed me to continue to expand my mental territory even as his diminished. My biggest fear was finally something I had to face.

On Mother's Day of 2015, I got the call that my father was given morphine while he was on hospice. I learned that once a patient get morphine, the body begins to shut down. I broke down. While I knew and understood he was suffering, I wasn't prepared to walk a life without my father. He instilled values and wisdom into myself, my siblings, my nieces and nephews and I wasn't ready for my daughter to be without that. I started to understand that everything was going to look differently. Whereas I had him to lean on and go to in moments of contemplation, my daughter was going to miss out. I think most importantly, I was going to miss out on it moving forward. My father was never going to walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't be present for more children if I had them. I wouldn't be able to consult him in the moments when I was confused or stressed out. The times when I would need to call on him, it would just mean I couldn't.

Getting pregnant was super scary for me. Understanding that I would be near death in giving birth was also super terrifying. My dad fought through any issues he was having to be present for me and my daughter. He came with me to doctor's appointments when my boyfriend couldn't. He folded my clean clothes, made my bed, and overall was just present. I never had to question where he would be when I needed him.

May 11th 2015 my father took his final breathe. I was in shock and disbelief. I had to say goodbye to someone who had been so influential in my life. I questioned God. I questioned everything. I knew I had to be strong so I pushed down everything. My hurt, sadness, confusion, and discomfort ultimately led to depression. I sat in a place of functional depression for 5 years. I was still mourning losing my father but had to be a mom, girlfriend, sister and daughter. I was also attempting to work an at home job which proved itself to be more difficult right after he passed. I was finally able to get back into working normally or what I thought was normal. I didn't realize I was still suffering from depression. I

I can't really explain what mourning looks or feels like for anyone else. It is something that stays with you. It just turns into grief. Grief changes as you grow and change. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday and other times you don't think about it at all. You can be triggered by a smell, a movie, a location and nothing prepares you for it. Personally, I leaned on God/Goddess/Spirit to get through and when I am struggling.