joey c. don’t mess with me
so it’s been exactly nine months since my father passed away. it’s easy for me to say that it feels like no time has passed, and it’s also easy for me to say that over the past nine months i’ve had my ups and downs. his passing didn’t hit me until November and every month it gets progressively worse. this month though… i’m not sure. i am filled with a deep sadness, but perhaps because i’ve been thinking about what comes after life lately i’m a bit preoccupied with curiousity rather than ruefulness. i wish he hadn’t passed, and i’m sure anyone who has experienced a tragedy like losing a parent to a freak accident can and will attest to what i just said.
for the first time in my entire life though, i feel like i know him… even though i really don’t. i see where my sarcasm stems from, where my love of hardcore rap, the 80s, and good literature originated from. i’ve learned of his abusive childhood, of his beautiful handwriting, of his mistakes, and his triumphs. i forgave him before he died, and i’m glad i did. its difficult to say that i don’t feel guilty, and i know that i had nothing to do with his death, how i had no way to prevent it. but i still wish i could have apologized to him and told him that even though his mistakes were mistakes i forgave him. i regret not speaking my mind, simply because life is too short, and with that, from this day forward, my mind will be spoken, and i won’t hold back. he’s taught me that vivacity is key, being frank and upfront is necessary, and sugarcoating is just another way of beating around the bush. i wish he were here to see me graduate, to see me live life, to see cole enter high school and move onto college. i wish i wish i wish. but wishes never come true. here are a few things that are dedicated to him:
someone told me that my dad gave them the best present they ever received. he got them their dog, their best friend, their companion. another person told me that joey c used to bring them thanksgiving dinners when they had to work the late shift on thanksgiving. he seemed like a guy of giving… just to his friends and not to cole or me. perhaps he was scared he’d mess us up like his father messed him up. i’m really glad that he shared cooking with me though, because that’s one thing i’ll never grow tired of! someday…someday i hope to meet him again. and who knows when that day will come. all i know is that i miss him dearly, and i know he’s with me when i need him,
enfinlove (oh and enfin needs some support)