Whither he goest: RIP Papa

I haven't written in a while. A lot has happened. I did turn in that chapter skeleton, which needs a lot of work, but which was at least turned in with good faith...

A week later, my father, who took suddenly ill, died unexpectedly. He had been hospitalized with his ailments. I was sick, with a high fever, and so I went home early. I told my Dad that I would see him tommorow & that I loved him. He said, "You too." He seemed to be in stable condition, so we all left the hospital. A little after 2 AM, when we were all asleep, the hospital called to say that Dad had died. I have been in a very odd state ever since then inasmuch as I would have remained, even though I was sick, had I had any inkling of the imminence of his passing. Some moments seem as they ever were, but others strike me and leave me dumbstruck, numb, or just plain despondent.

Grief is a very odd process--one which I had not had to experience too much in my life. Until my Gran passed away in 2001, I had been sheltered from this sort of thing. However, losing my beloved grandmother 7 years ago did not steel me for the sheer shock of losing my father.

Like many men, I have had a most...interesting relationship with my father. Like most queer men, I have had a most...complicated and ambivalent relationship with my father. I love him so much. He could drive me far crazier than anyone else who tread this earth. He built me up & tore me up in so many different ways. He embarrassed me. I was so proud of him. He did wonderful things for me. He did some nasty things to me. Nonetheless, I LOVE my Daddy. I will miss my Daddy. I pray that his soul finds Paradise.

My father was born in a hick place in a hick time. He endured unimaginable things as a Marine in WWII and Korea. He survived 5 beach invasions. He was awarded 2 Purple Hearts. He met my Mom and waited for her to finish school, which was unheard of when they met in 1949. He changed jobs rather than make her leave her school, job, & family. A hyper-macho man in the 1950's South did this? I actually did not know these aspects until after he died. He kept so much of himself to himself. Why was I so robbed of this while he was alive? Granted, I kept much of myself to myself while he was alive in the hopes of shielding him ("Dad, do you want to hear about my boyfriend?"), so I guess I can't complain or condemn too much.

So, I am the selfish one, left behind, missing my Dad & still trying to process what he means to me, what I do now, how to honor him while still remembering his flawed, human self. I'm not yet in a good place about this, but I'm working on it. Not only my family have been helpful, but so has my family of friends, for whom I am grateful.

I love you, Papa!