I have felt this pain, this melancholic feeling, makes me want to scream and cry for days, stay in bed forever.
No it is not depression. Though I thought about it; it is not sadness, though she joins in sometimes. Her name is grief.
I thought I did not know grief, but it turns out we have been friends for a long time now. I just had to put the name to the feeling.
Grief calls me at least once a week to remind me of my daddy issues.
When I was I high school, I thought I was depressed but thankfully I have never met depression. I met sadness and grief.
I have felt this pain, this melancholic feeling, makes me want to scream and cry for days, stay in bed forever.
No it is not depression. Though I thought about it; it is not sadness, though she joins in sometimes. Her name is grief.
I thought I did not know grief, but it turns out we have been friends for a long time now. I just had to put the name to the feeling.
Grief calls me at least once a week to remind me of my daddy issues.
When I was I high school, I thought I was depressed but thankfully I have never met depression. I met sadness and grief.
Grief tried to contact me when I was younger but it knew it was too soon.
My dad passed away when I was 10 years old. I am close to being 20.
I never got to meet him. Technically I did, but I was two and my memory does not go that far back.
I was blind to the idea of a father because my mom did it all. I knew I had a father, I just did not know where.
I was selfish and blamed my mom for my father’s leaving for years. She never clarified what had happened. She said he was competing in a motorcycle race and was injured. He was moved from hospital to hospital until we lost track of him.
It did not make sense that we had “lost track,” but I was too young to know better.
I prayed that he would come home soon enough but he never did.
Years later when I was mature enough my mom revealed the truth.
Dad had become involved with some bad people and was later kidnapped. Police were not notified because in Mexico you cannot outsmart the bad guys. My family was left with nothing but a question. Is he dead?
All we found was his truck with the doors open and the engine still running.
I was at my grandparents’ house, in one of the rooms, and I had no idea who I was speaking to.
It was my dad, he knew what was about to happen.
He called me the day of his kidnapping and said he loved me and to listen to my mom.
He also went to my grandmothers’ house to say goodbye to her. She said there were two big guys on his side watching his every step.
I do not know what kind of guy he was, I was not fortunate enough to know him.
He left four children behind. What kind of life was he living that he would risk it all?
I have plenty of questions for the universe and for God, but they have answered none.
Grief will be with me forever, every day and will call me again in the future because that is the cycle of life.
In my case, my dad’s life had been taken away, even though I like to think that he is hiding in Cuba with Tupac. But my heart knows he is gone.
Allow yourself to grieve because if you do not, it will force itself on you.
