Eight years ago on this day, my mom called my work phone and told me my daddy had died. I remember it was raining hard as hell and I was speeding down I-295 while crying hysterically. Not only did I have to wrap my mind around what happened but I had the difficult task of telling my younger sister. Even reliving it now makes my chest tight. Everyone always gives their condolences and tell you it will be alright. But when the hell will it be okay? What makes my daddy’s death more devastating is I feel as if I lost him twice. When I was in the eleventh grade my daddy had a seizure, a stroke, and went into a coma during a medical procedure. He did come out of the coma but he was a paraplegic. I hated seeing my daddy like that. He was my best friend and now he couldn’t even use the restroom by himself. Shortly after that, I called myself attempting suicide by taking a bottle of allergy pills. I just could not cope. I could see the frustration and pain in his eyes. One day, you’re walking and living life and the next you can barely feed yourself. I didn’t visit my daddy much because it was hard to digest. And before I could move forward and accept what had happened, he died. Damn. I was still trying to piece my life together from his stroke. Now, he was gone. I was happy he no longer had to suffer, but when would I stop suffering? When would I become alright like the people promised me at his funeral? I’ve been stuck on the fourth stage of grief (depression) for eight damn years. When the hell do I get to the last stage (acceptance)? I dread the 21st of April so much I take that day off from work every year. I can’t even tell you the last time I went to his gravesite. I think I’ve only been once. I just cannot and will not accept that I lost my daddy, my best friend, my everything. I’m still picking up the pieces to make myself whole again, but I can’t even face the pain to do so. I’ve been in therapy for years I still don’t know where the fuck to start. So I’m sharing this with you to let you know that you cannot put a timeframe on mending a broken heart. And you damn sure will have a hard time getting over the loss of a parent no matter how old or young they are. My daddy was 43. I dedicate this to my daddy, Willie Lee Anderson. And my four sisters that share my pain. #Willie5
Yours Truly,
Kaz
Just Kaz LLC 