Non Sequitur

So I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately. October 10th will be a year since my father passed away. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he were here right now. What kind of jokes would he say? What would he think about Josh and I getting married, or me completing my second book? What about the trailers that I slaved for months to cast, film, and edit together? What would he say? Would there be words of inspiration or would he crack jokes to make me laugh?

It’s a strange feeling to lose a parent. Coming from a big family, I’ve lost a lot of people. Some carried a bigger weight than others. But more than anything, this year has been a year of denial. I denied really missing him. I denied thinking about him, or letting myself remember what he sounded like. I didn’t look at pictures really and whenever I let myself really really think about him, I found something to distract me. I’m just not ready for him yet, and I’ve come to terms with that.

It’s easy to distract your thoughts, to dive into a project and let it envelope you. I finished two books.  The last one I couldn’t finish until he passed away. It’s about him and I. Sometimes I feel like Ariel is the way the girl inside of me would have reacted to his death, it was my way of coping with it…Ariel and I both getting through it together. Her life was just most complicated than mine. =)

I also wrote, cast, rehearsed, filmed and edited a trailer for my first book. The one that’s currently taking a break and hanging out on my shelf. I knew he would have liked that. He would have thought it was “cool as hell”. At least that’s what I’d think he’d say.

I guess there’s a million ways to deal with death. Some obsess over other things or indulge in something—whether good or bad it’s something.

I am grateful of a few things though. While there is a pit of emptiness in my heart that only my father can fill, I am eternally grateful for how he

Old picture of us

 went. Quick and at home. Mostly, it was sudden, a matter of hours, and intimate moment between my mother and father—no hospitals or tubes. It was the way he wanted it. Too often people are miserable in hospitals and it’s a long drawn out process.

Another thing I’m grateful for was time. My time with him, knowing he was sick and being able to cherish every moment.

Sure, this blog wasn’t my best. It wasn’t about writing or advice. Mostly it was my way of therapy. Take it for what you will. I miss my dad, but I know he’s up there smiling down at me. And most of all, I believe he’s proud.



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