After I gave up on Facebook, I stopped blogging. It wasn't that I wanted to stop blogging so much as I just...couldn't. I'd sit down, start to write, but nothing would come together. I guess I wanted to hide.
My lack of blogging goes together well with my feelings about my upcoming birthday. When I'm deeply hurt by something, I hide until I feel a little better. Soon after my dad died, I could only focus on what a blessing his death was. As I've mentioned before, his body was rapidly deteriorating and there was really no where for him to go besides down. While I was indeed hurting for the months that followed, I pushed that hurt aside. I told myself I needed to help my mom and I needed to be a big girl and be there for my family. Add that to my Stephanieism of normally not being able to cry anyway, and I was able to keep the hurt in its own little place in my mind. I told it that it was safe in that little place and didn't need to go around bugging everything else in there. However, if I've learned anything in this life it's that I often don't know what's best for me. Thankfully, my Redeemer does know what's best for me, and slowly was able to help me remove the pain from its too-small confinement and allow it to exist.
I miss my dad. People can think what they want, but I did love him. For most of my life, I idolized him. I didn't always approve of and/or enjoy some of his behaviors, but I still loved him even if I was too scared to show it. I still needed him. As much as I'm a grown-up who doesn't rely on my parents for financial support, I still need my dad. Who else would be able to help me pull the "Ultimate Prank" on certain individuals who need to be pranked in an inconvenient yet not mean way? No one else could ever wrap me up in a big bear hug like he could (even after I'd had a baby, for that matter).
One thing I always looked forward to in my life was my birthday. Daddy always made a big deal out of my birthday. Even if it was only 30 minutes of playing games with him at the arcade (wow, that made me feel a little old...) he still made a big deal out of me turning another year older. Even after I moved out, he always sent a card to wherever I was living or he and my mother and sister would come visit me. When I turned 20, he came to Provo to take us to Tucanos. (Tucanos is an AMAZING all you can eat Brazillian resturant which costs an arm and a leg but it worth the cost. If you go, make sure you're hungry! I'm not sure how big the chain of resturants is, but I know of at least one in Salt Lake as well as the one in Provo.) He told our waitress it was my birthday, and laughed as I turned beet red while the waiters and waitresses marched out singing the happy birthday song. I'm still not pleased with that opportunity to be embarrassed, but I still feel special.
Last year he sent me a thoughtful birthday card with one of my baby pictures inside. This year, he isn't in this world anymore. When people say it's the little things that are the hardest after someone dies, it's totally true. I'm going to be 23, and I'd rather not have anyone make any kind of real fuss about my birthday. It's really just another day now. Sure, Daniel's doing everything he can to be sweet and make it special (which, by the way, hasn't exactly been easy for him with his mopey, undecisive wife trying to sabatoge the whole thing), but really, without my dad, it just isn't as important as it used to be. I don't need cake or ice cream since I'm making a strong effort to eat healthy. I don't need Daniel to buy me anything since I'm in charge of the bills and I'd really just like that extra money in the bank. Overall, I've obviously turned into a very boring person when it comes to celebrations. Well, except for Halloween, Christmas, Daniel and Anya's birthdays, Arbor Day, (weird, right? I guess I like folige) Easter, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving, Martin Luther King Jr day, and, of course, the debatably non-existant Eat-Lots-of-Ice-Cream-and-A-Burger Day which, for feminine reasons, happens about once every month. Yeah, I'm not big on holidays that focus on me like I used to. I pretend Mother's Day, half my anniversary, and my birthday don't exist. The first two because I usually forget until the day of, and the last because I really don't like the idea of making a big fuss over me since I liked my Daddy's attention best out of everyone else on my birthday.
Anyway, sorry this is such a melodramatic post, I just needed to put this information out for people to see. It's theraputic. It helps me to remember why I sometimes feel the way I do.
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