October 11, 2022

Today marks 11 months and 13 days since my dad passed. Tomorrow, would be one year since we first heard about the tumor.

I actually had to look up the exact date of his passing a couple times because you know, it's not exactly a day you try to remember.

I've written 12 posts on my grief, but those barely contain the weight of emotions and thoughts and words I have to say on the matter. Things I think on in the shower and on the bus and during class and just sitting at my computer. I never used to be one of those people who gets lost in thought, but I often find myself engrossed in these thoughts of my dad, of life before, and life now.

As part of business school they make you complete those 'personality' and 'EQ' tests. And there's always a question to classify the statement, "I am satisfied with my life", from strongly agree to strongly disagree. And on any normal day, forgetting all that happened almost 12 months ago, I'd say strongly agree. But then I think on that day, those hours, the months that have followed...and I click neutral. 

A couple weeks ago, I decided maybe it was time to stop being mad at God. Mostly because I've grown tired of always being mad, so easily frustrated and enraged by the world and anything in it that perturbs me. I remember feeling a lot more 'happy' and 'contented' before. I'm not sure what to feel next but I think 40% mad is a little much. 

I still have a hard time talking about it with anyone. I can either describe the events completely devoid of any emotion, or I feel an insurmountable upwelling of sadness or grief, to a point where I have no words. I wonder when that will go away. I guess I now understand those TV characters where they say, "they don't like to talk about it."

But here's your reminder to tell your loved ones you love them, to give them a call if it's been awhile. And to ask more than if they're okay, but ask if their bodies or heart is hurting, if they are stressed or feeling unwell, and if they've seen the doctor recently.