When I Started This Blog- 10 Year Anniversary
"I really don't care if I'm forgotten when I'm dead, Just as long as I'm remembered when I'm alive" -Frank Berin (handwritten note)
When I started this blog, it was the 5 year anniversary of his death. Today is the 10 year anniversary.
When I started this blog, I had 2 tattoos. I now have 24.
When I started this blog, I had just accepted my college offer. I now am a graduate, nonetheless who graduated during a global pandemic and an economic recession.
When I started this blog, I didn’t think I knew my dad. I’ll never fully know him, but I’ve learned a lot about him.
When I started this blog I didn’t know the city he called home. The past four years I got the chance to call it home.
When I started this blog I didn’t understand how I felt, now I understand maybe too much about my feelings.
When I started this blog I didn’t know what it would lead to. Now I know it lead to him.
As we step into the 10 year anniversary of his passing, it’s hard not to think about all the things he didn’t see us do, or all the things he won’t see us do. All the conversations we won’t have, lessons we won’t learn, etc etc... I imagine he’s up there ( as we all know, with a cigar and Bombay sapphire martini) with Izzy on his lap, chatting with Zappa about how wild this all is. In 2 years it will be the same amount of time I had without him, as with him. In 3 years I will have known him less than I have lived. My dad was only apart of my life for about 12% ( “about” being operative because this is assuming I live til 100? I think? Fuck math.) anyways, that’s not a lot. That’s 88% without him. But, given the unusual circumstances I’ve taken a lot of time to reflect on what today, and every day moving forward, will carry and how he still makes his way into everyday life. There’s a lot of people I haven’t been able to hug, or see, or laugh with in person. There’s a lot of people who I lost touch with. People who went different ways. People who are far. People who are busy. People who, in one way or another, aren’t here. But I never view it as an issue. so why is my dad not physically being here an issue? Why am I spending everyday burdened by this? Yes, I know it’s okay to not be okay. But it’s also okay to be okay. It’s okay to accept. It’s okay to not have someone physically there to teach you. The lessons he has brought to me are never apparent in the moment, but rather over periods of time. He’s taught me how to be independent. He's taught me to chase after what I want, to cherish those around me, and how to handle the unexpected. I’m writing this in advance, so I don’t know how "today" will feel for me. I always thought about what would 10 years without him look like, and I never could imagine. I want to say thank you, though. This blog has done more for me than I could have imagined. I thank you all for taking anytime to read it, and ultimately help me come to terms with the loss of my father. This is a life long battle that I really wish I didn’t have to endure, none of us did. but we do.
I used to say “ I hope I made you proud dad. I hope Ruby and I made you proud. I hope mom made you proud.” but I live every single day, making every single decision with him in mind (it’s exhausting, especially when I'm making decisions he wouldn't approve of.) But I make myself damn proud, so I know he’s proud. and Ruby works her ass off so I know she makes him proud. and my mom did the most fucking incredible job raising us on her own after her husband unexpectedly passed away. So I KNOW he's proud of her.
I’ll end this by saying what I say to everyone when they mention that he lost his life. Yes, he lost his life. Yes, he had a long life ahead of him, and he deserved to fucking get to live it. But he also did a live a life. He lived a good life. He worked hard, he chased his dreams, he had a wife and two daughters that worshipped him. He had years full of all of YOU whom he adored. Family he loved dearly. He traveled, did what he loved for work, and experienced life in its entirety. He didn’t suffer. He didn’t hurt. He lived making others laugh. And that shouldn’t be forgotten either. Take this as a reminder to live life for yourself and for those who didn’t get to live theirs.
Every year we ask you all to open your hearts (WALLETS!!!!) to the FAB Fund for Amyloidosis research through the MAYO Clinic. This year, though, I ask you to reach out to an old friend, hug someone you haven’t recently, and live your life (with your fucking mask on.) Also, please donate to an organization that gives justice to someone who lost their life to soon. To help trans lives that are on the line. To use your privilege to uplift and support those not able to. Use this life we have with gratitude. Don't take it for granted. Above all, don't forget to say I love you.
So with that, I love you all, thank you.
Dad, I wish you were here.
PS I didn’t have my mom proof read this ( like I do with all my other posts because I suck at grammar) so I’m really sorry if you’re a grammar freak, I'll have my mom edit it later today ;)
