I am yours. You are mine. We are what we are.
September 24, 2010 Four days ago was the sixth anniversary of my dad’s passing from our mortal world. An unremarkable anniversary, a little late.
A friend of mine gave birth to her first child not long after my father died. A couple weeks afterward, in fact. At the time in 2004, I was a wreck… an autopilot version of myself. Fully functional on the outside, catatonic on the inside. On the precipice of spending a couple of years living someone else’s life in order to escape the great sorrow that consumed me. And I remember how touched my friend was by my experience as she was about to begin her own. Touched in a way I didn’t understand beyond knowing that it’s a big deal to have a child. A happiness I was (and still am) incapable of totally pulling together.
This same friend brought up my father’s death the other night as we were catching up, sipping wine at some trendy bar I had suggested. The topic was completely appropriate and unquestionably appreciated. And I am deeply ashamed to admit that if she hadn’t said anything, the date wouldn’t have triggered anything in my mind. At all. I had forgotten that September 20th was the day my dad died.
I’m not some sort of a monster. I mean, ask me the details of the day my dad died and I’ll tell you that it was a Monday, and it was late, and I was sitting in my living room chatting on IM in my pajamas when the phone rang… and it was a call I expected, so that when the news was delivered I felt some kind of gross satisfaction that yes, this was the exact call I expected to get just now and here it is, I’m right… and then I walked around the block 40 times chain-smoking cigarettes because I had mentally left my body and was immune to reason and judgment and nothing irresponsible I did mattered because all I wanted was to be closer to him. I remember taking a shower to get the smoke off me and thinking that if this was all a dream, I’d be so impressed because oh how it felt so real. I remember that earlier the same day I reluctantly told my boss that I was probably going to have to take some time off, because I knew it was coming, and telling him that made it real, and it didn’t want to have the conversation but by doing it I was being responsible career-wise. And I told him and we both cried. And then what I knew would happen, happened.
I haven’t forgotten any of it. Yet six years later, September 20th was just another day, and I let it go by, and I didn’t call my mother. And I realize that our brains do these things to us because we need protection, we need to go easy on ourselves, we need to forget in order to be productive. We need to be successes and we need to get things done and we just can’t bring the bad stuff into the fray because then we won’t be productive and people will think less of us. I realize all of that. And yet, I’m ashamed.
I miss you, Dad. I’m sorry I forgot. And I wish you were here to smile knowingly at all of this, because I know you would. I got this from you. And then you’d wink at me because you know how much I hate it and I’d yell at you and be SO ANNOYED.
How’s that for my first blog post in four months? Whew. Weight lifted. Shoulders back. Thanks for reading.
Reader Comments (137)
Sarah -- well said. and I know how you felt when you realized it had passed, same thing happened to me in August.
Thanks for writing.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us.
I'm so sorry you lost your dad.
I know I'd be crushed if my mum passed away.
I know how you feel
I am dreading the day my dad dies. I know that this will happen to me as well but I guess we can only try to not forget the ones we have lost and not torture ourselves when we do forget.
My heart goes out to you. I know the feeling all to well.
That was beautiful, thank you. It's been many years since my mother died, and I still miss her. As time goes on, I think of her more on holidays and other significant dates, than I do day to day. When I do think about it, I find it amazing how little I do think about her anymore. Then I feel ashamed. But, like you said, our brains have a way of refocusing us on the here and now, so that we can live out our own hopefully happy lives.
Keep the memories fresh in your mind and close to your heart
<3
Wonderful post. It's only "convention" that we are supposed to remember these dates; it makes no real difference to your memories... the fact that you can write about your Dad in such warm (and balanced) tones speaks volumes.
The first anniversary of my Mom passing is coming up October 5th. I kinda want the day to come, to be sad, (sadder than usual) and move past it. I miss her everyday but feel like I am adjusting. Your not alone; we all have or unfortunately, will lose someone dear to us. Thanks for sharing.
G
I had the same kind of thing happen to me a couple years ago. My Dad died when I was a child and then years later my best friend died a week after the anniversary of my dad's death, which made for a very rough time in my life. However a couple years went by and I saw that I became very busy with work, and kind of forgot about both days until a couple days later and was overcome with guilt, or rather guilt that I didn't feel as bad as I thought I should feel. I soon came to the realization that their memory is always with me, and that neither of them would ever want me to beat myself up or hold a memorial for them, they'd want me to live, pardon the cliche. Sorry to ramble a bit but I was just taken a back at how much I could relate to your post. Thank you for sharing.
A very nice tribute, Sarah. It will be okay. You will be okay.
Peace be with you,
Beautifully put, honestly said, and wonderful tribute... I went through the same with the passing of my mom in '04... all I can say, if you may let me, is not to worry about remembering dates, as I am certain you have him in your thoughts often. Tonight I will raise a bevy in his honor and this blog you lovingly crafted.
Thank you for sharing this with us. Today I will call all the people I love.
Thanks for posting.
Thank you Sarah, this reminded of how I had forgotten to do many of the things I had forgotten to do on my Dad's passing anniversary. It brought some tears to my eye and is doing the same as I write this comment. Thank you and please keep writing, we love you.
Thanks for sharing such a touching post.
Good post, lady. I'm so sorry for your loss...
I love the song of the same title - by the way he looks here, your dad could have been in that band, you know what I mean? Excellent image.
Be well, lady.
I am sure we all feel a little closer to you after reading this. I feel like I just walked into your living room without personally knowing you.
Thank you for sharing, it makes those of us who are fortunate enough to still have our parents to think of what that really means.
Stay strong.
Marcus Hamaker
http://www.thesleepygeek.com
Sarah, I'm sorry if my poking you to blog made you feel any sort of pressure, but I'm hoping that my nudge, and this subsequent entry actually turned out to be a little bit of what your heart needed.
I'm entering that part of life, you know... starting in my late 20s, when people start being really, really gone. That feeling of moving forward seems almost as painful as that of the loss.
I'm grateful for this fancy social network contraption... because it has served its purpose well. I'm more connected to you, through your pictures, places and words than millions of other strangers around the world. I know that, because reading this made me want to grab a couple of pints of ice cream, some booze, and watch my cats while giving a friend an ear and maybe a couple of laughs.
I'll be thinking about you this week... (probably as I take a go at that ice cream. ) :)
Sarah, you are a FANTASTIC writer and I can't adequately tell you how touching this is.
My Grandfather died March 5, 1989 and 21 years later, I still have to remind myself some years of that date.
We forget I think because it's perhaps what they would want us to do. Remember our good times with them and not dwell on the anniversary of their death but celebrate their lives. As long as you realize that you got your smile and other traits from your Dad and look at the pictures you obviously have, your Dad will live on in you and that's the tribute he I think he'd want; to see his daughter happy, successful and enjoying life.
Please don't take another four months to write! You are GREAT at this and I anxiously await your next post! :)
Sarah, I thank you for writing this blog. I lost my father two years ago in April. My mother had to remind me of the anniversary of his passing and I felt the same way you did. I didn't forget on purpose, the way I dealt with his death was to engulf myself in my work. I think about my father everyday and wish I could of been closer with him before he died. Just know that you are not alone.
Sarah,
Thanks for sharing this. For me, I've programmed myself to focus mostly on the birthdays of those who were close to me that I've lost, not the anniversaries of their passing. I think I do that because a birthday is generally a happier, more fun time to remember them, and it's something I (in general) just tend to put more emphasis on remembering anyway. It is on those dates that I think about them, and say a little 'hello' and an 'i miss you'.
Sarah,
I,too, have these bottles of dark stuff in me. I carry them around all the time day and night. Sometimes, when I am alone, some of the stuff pours out in the form of tears and sometimes when I read a great post like yours.
Thank You for all that you do,
JonK
I appreciate your post. I too just realized it's been 6 years since my father died. I wrote a post about it on my site, and then never published it for fear it was maybe too personal to my family to talk about it on a blog. But after reading your post, maybe it is actually quite fitting and I'll have to revisit it. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing. And just because you didn't mark the day doesn't mean you didn't remember...
<3
Good to have you back in the blogosphere. Wonderful post.
Glad you're posting again. Sorry about the loss of your father.
Very well said, Sarah. My dad died when I was 13, which was 17 years ago. I remember when I started forgetting the day, I would feel guilty. Mourning is a different process for everyone. Thank you for sharing this with us!
whenever someone dies that i know, it always just feels like they went on vacation somewhere and they remain in my heart like they are still alive.
i didnt know you smoked! hotness :)
Sarah, I'm sorry for your loss. I haven't lost a parent, though I lost my maternal grandparents, who basically raised me when I was a child.
Like you, I can remember the exact details of the day, but for me, I couldn't tell you the actual date. I remember dates for lots of things, but those dates have never stuck with me. I don't know why, I don't know if that's my own defense mechanism, if it prevents me from having a specific day to reflect on them. I think of them daily and the impact they had on my life. I think that's what we all take from it, as you so eloquently put in this post. It's the memories from life that really stick. If we carry on their memories in our hearts, then I'm not sure we need to feel guilty if we miss the day they passed.
Take care and it's nice to see/read you again...
Sarah, my Grandmother died on October 2, 2004. It was easily the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to me. October 2nd of each year I dont give it a thought, but on the 3rd I remember and get angry at myself for having forgotten. I think that it's just our subconcious protecting our fragile grip on sanity. So the good news is; it means you're human.
It was great to meet you the other day (with Iyaz). Thanks for the Australian cookie thing. Try not to be too hard on yourself.
I lost my dad Feb 19, 2006. He was 53 years old and had brain cancer. So, I know the feeling well. The 26th will be my dad's birthday. And even now 4 years later there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him at least once.
Thanks for sharing with us.
We are with you Sarah....
Sarah,
I was going to write a long comment about death and cherishing those around us but I wont. Ill just say;
Thank you for sharing with us something so personal
Steve
June was the ninth anniversary of my mom's passing. It was the first year I failed to light a Yahrzeit candle. I feel so so guilty - I'm not even Jewish. It is really great, inexpensive therapy, though. And you're right, your dad wouldn't care that you forgot the date. He's just glad you are out there being who you are, shaking the world up the way that only you do. Hugs to you.
Im so scared of whats to come.
Very nice Sarah. I've seen several pictures of your dad over the years through your blog and flickr accounts and he always seemed like he was a genuine person. I think I would have liked to had a beer with him.
Thanks Sarah for sharing your thoughts again...
I'm so sorry for your loss...
Sadly...a good friend of mine also passed away this last Monday.
It's never easy, and there is never an acceptable explanation,
Life just seems to work out that way sometimes, it's not right,
it's not fair, it's just wrong all way around..
But...I'm sure your Dad must have been so proud of
his daughter, and of all of your accomplishments!
Take Care Sarah...
Thanks for sharing your story. I lost my dad the same year. It's far more important to remember the days he lived.
Thank you for sharing your experiences. My wife passed away May 18th; I have found that hearing accounts like yours make me feel less strange about the ways grief affects me. Especially since lately my feelings have been dominated by a guilt similar to yours. Work has become a very important distraction and there are days I feel that is wrong. How inadequate a substitute for this person I loved so much is my career?
Sarah,
Condolences on the passing of your Dad. As we get older, life tends to remind us that we are all mortal (for now). If you are healthy in mind and spirit, you grieve for a time, but then you must move on. We can be secure in the promises of God that if we are right with Him that we will see our loved ones again. Life is but a journey to another place. When He comes again, we will all be reunited never to see pain or death again. May God Bless you and keep you until that time, because I want to hear you teach us about all the wonderful tech He has in store for us after this brief journey is over!
I worry about this all too often... I lost my wife in April, April 13th to be exact, to cancer. She was 32 years old. I am so focused on the date and all the dates in my life in fear of forgetting one or worse yet feeling like I have forgot her.
I appreciate your post as it makes me feel remember not to be so hard on myself and to live my life. As I know this is what she would want for me....
I understand how you feel about forgetting the day, but what matters most is that you think of him often.
Here's an idea that has helped me a lot. On the anniversary of my mother's death each year, my sister and I spend the day together...and we try to pick an activity that reminds us of her. There's usually some sadness, and some tears, but we're always so glad to be together on that day...and we know Mom would be pleased. So, next year on the 20th, consider carving out the day to be with someone you love...it's a great way to honor your Dad.
Been a while since I stopped in and read your blog. It's very touching, and hits home with me as I lost my mom to breast cancer when I was 17. Keep up the good work and I'm sure your dad would be proud of you and everything you've accomplished.
Wow, what a beautiful post. I remember when you mentioned your dads passing on the air. Sounds like a great guy. Thank you for your words. -Longtime fan
Wonderful thoughts. And the picture of your Dad...wow. I detect an immense amount of character in those eyes and am immediately brought back to the late 60's. Thanks so much!
Sarah, awesome post my mom passed away 4 years ago May 7th and I forgot the day. I miss her so much.
Thanks
No need to feel ashamed. Life moves forward. It's been 24 years since my dad died. I miss him but that void has been filled with my wife, my two boys and my many friends. When I'd think of my dad, I remember the good times and it puts a smile on my face.