I am not an angry person, but I am angry

I know I sound extremely hostile in a lot (all of) these writings, like everyone else is doing something wrong, and no one is doing how I want things. I’m coming off selfish, like I’m the only human who lost their dad. Right? I should’ve prefaced this a while and I want you all to know- I am not mad at anyone except myself. I’m mad I let the past 7 years slip away and I handled my dad’s death the way that I did. I was young and obviously didn’t know what I wanted, and I didn’t really start to realize it until last year. People are beginning to assume because I’m finally addressing these feelings and issues, that I need help. It’s actually the opposite. In writing these blog posts I’m actually getting most of the help I need. Last July on my dad’s 6th anniversary of passing we had a fundraiser for Amyloidosis in conjunction with the MAYO clinic (shameless plug if you want to donate go to the FAB fund for amyloidosis research on the MAYO clinic website!) that I planned myself. I invited friends, family, neighbors, my dad’s colleagues, etc. For every donation you would receive one of my dad’s photographs as a thank you. The event went well, and I was pleased with the turn out, but I kept getting passive comments about how this was just “ a ploy so I could put something on my college application.” And I think that’s when I snapped. I made a Facebook post that read;

it's weird to think 6 years have gone by without my best friend. I've stopped telling people about how amazing he was in fear of them becoming uncomfortable, which isn't fair to me or him.

My father was by far the most incredible person I have ever met. It always boggles my mind that out of the 47 years he lived, I only knew him for 12. There was so much more to him I never knew, but everyday I see more of him in me. There's not a day that goes by where I don't think of something he said or did. It's nearly impossible to not think of him when I hear cynical Jewish jokes, or sarcastic comments. He was full of fascination and humor and I know he would be extremely proud of my sister and mom for all they've accomplished. Thank you for all the lessons and love dad, I miss you more than ever. Raising a glass to you today , Frankie B

also, thanks to my momma for being the strongest woman on earth, I'm extremely lucky to get to call you mom!

This was over a year ago, and that was all I could get myself to write and post. And since then, not a lot. So I’m done being quiet and I’m ready to type til my goddamn fingers fall off. Over the years I’ve noticed myself feeling a lot of resentment towards people who were close with my dad. Seven years ago one of his best friends accused me of stealing alcohol at a party and to this day I’m furious at him. At dinner a little while ago with some family friends everyone started to complain how their “chop chop salad” did not in fact have chopped chicken, leaving everyone complaining about how chop should imply CHOPPED chicken. I snapped. I went insane. I stood up in the middle of dinner and stormed off. We had celebrated the seven anniversary of my dad’s death not even a week ago and here we were, a group of adults complaining because their salad wasn’t chopped. I was filled with such an indescribable rage it almost was scary. I talked to my mom later and the thing that stuck with me the most was, “ why did you get to be the one to get up and walk away?” It was true. Why did I get to be so angry and attach the situation to something completely different? No one else even remotely associated the situation to my dad. His friend who accused me of stealing was simply trying to joke around with me, probably something my dad would do. But instead I turned against his friends, and looked at them like they were forgetting him. My biggest realization in this was that I just expected people to know how I was feeling, without saying anything. Because, again, like I said (and will say so many times), I’m finally ready to really learn about my dad- but everyone else already knows about him. The anger begins to turn into a form of fear- fear that people are moving on, forgetting him, and replacing him. Writing it out it seems arbitrary but these thoughts genuinely attack my mind. His death cannot be associated with a normal conversation because it isn’t a normal conversation. I am angry that you tell me how amazing he was, but not what he did that was so amazing. I am angry that you tell me how much fun you had together, because I didn’t get that much fun. I’m angry that you hid things from me, and now I feel like it’s too late for those things to be revealed. I’m angry I didn’t ask sooner, and that now I’m scared you won’t answer. I’m angry you knew him and I didn’t, because I love him, and I miss him, just like you do.

Dad w friends! Location/Date/source unknown (please reach out if this is your photo!!)