I just read my friend's blog... I do this every week or so because she updates and it makes me happy and often I will learn something. And, today was no different, I learned that despite the fact that my father has been dead for almost a year it still can hurt like it was yesterday...
My friend has an amazing daughter who I have watched grow since she was tiny tiny. I held her in arms and changed her diapers and sang her songs and listened to her scream. She has a father as all children do. Her father happens to be my closest friend, my brother. I've watched him grow and sang him songs and he has watched me change diapers and I've listened to him scream. She will always have him, have him whole, open, and safe.
My father was never whole, open and safe... It's taken me awhile to learn that the childhood I thought I had in my imaginings was not what I thought. That the reason I'm so scared of people yelling is because of him. The reason I'm scared to be alone is because of him. My father would never have judged me, but oh how he would have judged me... I could have been amazing, and beautiful and alive and he wouldn't have seen it... or perhaps he would have seen it and never spoken.
My father died. Almost a year ago, and I was there. I watched, I didn't cry and I changed more diapers and I watched him scream, we sang no songs. I was his rock and I wonder if he knew that he was never mine. We didn't talk about where he was going, because even at the end he was sure he wasn't leaving. I do not regret the year I spent caring for him, I do not regret sleeping in armchairs, or eating hotdogs or eating nothing at all. I do not regret seeing that little girl I love so much and explaining I was sad because my papa died that day...
The tears run down my face.
I was never my father's goddess because my father could have none other than himself. He was Narcissus, he was Echo... I would watch him paint and listen to him singing me songs, and feeding his snakes and screaming. I am closer to him now that he is dead. I am a better person having learned from his departure, I am growing into my own Goddess but I am not moving on... I will never move on.