My dad died on 20th February this year. It was very sudden - a heart attack. He came home from work for his dinner as usual, sat on 'his' sofa and left us. I was home from uni but staying at a friend's house. My Auntie came to take me home, but she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. She just said, "it's your dad". He'd had a heart attack five years before, when I was 15, so I figured it was that. When I finally got it out of her, I thought she was sick. Why was she being so cruel telling me a joke like that? Except it wasn't a joke. He was dead. I still don't really believe it. At the funeral, all my family was crying, but I felt that they had no reason. He wasn't their dad, he was mine. I felt like my mum, my brother and I were on our own, but even now we still can't talk to each other about it. We can talk about him, about the things he used to do, but not the d-word. We all walk on eggshells around each other, not wanting to upset each other. I'm so angry with him for leaving us. He was only 49, he had no right. I feel lost and miserable and helpless. Sometimes I just don't want to do anything, just sit and smoke. Ironic isn't it? My dad died of a heart attack, and I'm dealing with it by smoking and sitting in my own self-pity.
I've lost my self-confidence. I'm not the same person I was. I feel ugly and fat and useless. I can't even pluck up the courage to walk down the road into uni. I've had all the speeches, like time is a great healer etc. Well I hope they're right, cause nothings helped so far. I just want to be happy again. I know my dad will never see his grandkids, or walk me down the aisle, or look disapprovingly at the length of my skirt. I just don't understand why.
You can send email to Claire at: firstname.lastname@example.org
anniversary date 02-20-98
date of post 06-15-98