Ok, so my dad died recently. Last night in fact. April 27th will hereby be known to me as having the distinction as the date upon which my father left this realm for whatever lies beyond it. Or beside it. However that works.
Bummer dude. Serious. It always sucks to lose someone you love, for me personally, this is the first time I’ve lost someone I was directly related to, whom I spent a lot of time with. There have been distant uncles and grandparents, but never immediate family. Never a time when it affected me so directly. It’s surreal to be sure. I know that I’m still processing all of it and will be for a good long time. I kinda feel like I’m not sad enough or something. I have yet to cry, though I did inadvertently put on all black when I woke up this morning. My mum and my sis are holding up fantastically well also. It could be that we’re in shock and to an extent I’m sure we are, but we’re also fairly pragmatic when it comes to things like this.
Death is an inevitability. It’s as universal as math and music. Perhaps even more so. And we were well aware that he was dying, a little faster, a little sooner, a little more inevitably than those around us, including ourselves. He was diagnosed with cancer back in september. The bad kind. The kind that they tend to make you comfortable through and don’t offer a lot of options because there really aren’t any. It’s a freaky thing to be suddenly handed a death sentence like that and I wasn’t even the one getting it.
I’m one of those fortunate people who grew up with a kind and loving father. I don’t remember being condescended to, spanked or even disciplined excessively. I remember much in the way of laughter and joy and pride in what I was doing most of the time. Of course there were the turbulent teenage years, but I think that’s common enough. It makes me sad to think that I ever caused my father pain with my unusual lifestyle choices, hair styles, affinity for freaks and weirdos for company. But in hindsight, that’s kind of his fault. I learned from him the value of the strange, the sub, un and supernormal. Not to mention the ab. That there is humor everywhere, even in darkness. And I have had some very dark periods of existence, some so close to the edge of what could be considered insane that I had friends who never came back from the trip. Whether their minds went, their bodies succumbed, their morality shattered, their judgment or ability to remain capable and rational destroyed, it didn’t matter. At some point, the darkness had consumed them and they were lost. Some came back, altered, not necessarily for the better. Some were lost to memory. I came through, realtively unscathed, wiser, stronger, aware and free of malice. Because I knew how to laugh, even in the darkness.
And that’s in large part to the time I spent with my dad when I was young. A lot of what we did together was watch movies. I cut my teeth and my funny bone on black comedy. My mind is sharp, my wit is savage, my humor is dark. But funny. It can’t just be taboo, it has to be clever. And my dad knew clever, and helped me to realize the difference.
Of course, that’s not the only thing I inherited from my dad. And it wouldn’t be fair to say it was all him, because my mother certainly has a delightfully skewed sense of humor. There is always much in the way of laughter under this roof, for which I’m grateful because it could have easily gone the other way.
My dad didn’t always understand my choices, he didn’t even always like my choices. But he always allowed that they were mine to do with as I pleased. And he loved me in spite of and because of who I am. That’s the best thing a parent can ever do for their child I think.
That’s all I wanna say on this for now. I’m sure there will be more as time goes on and I process everything I’m feeling, but for now, it’s been summarized fairly well.
My dad died. He was a superawesome guy who loved me more than I deserved at times, but never ever less.
Thanks for that papa.
Send postcards, I’m insanely curious.