So I’m currently a
little very tipsy. I left the pub about half an hour ago, but I feel the need to write this post as I’m feeling a little upset and pissed off at the world. I had a very pleasant evening in the pub, full of banter and vodka which is fab. I returned home to unsuccessfully find the key to my house and answering the question, “why are you getting drunk so often?” to which I replied “are you really unaware it’s been a year since everything?” and then being called unfair. And I am writing this blog to discuss, am I really being unfair?
This week, my car was broken into. The passenger window was smashed, my bag, my sunglasses case and my sat nav stand and cable was taken. Granted, the robber must’ve thought that the bag had the sat nav in, but luckily that was in the glove compartment that he didn’t check, and the bag was full of damp swimming kit. So he pretty much had a fail of a car robbery.
At first, although in shock whilst driving to my Mum’s house, where the car is registered, I was pretty angry. What the hell was this person thinking, breaking into my car, taking my stuff? Then, as I called my Mum, I cried. How could this happen to a pretty respected part (well, outside a private hospital) of my home town? How safe am I? Then, I joked about it. Thank God, I’m getting a car with all the windows, I would say to my cousin. Luckily I’m getting that new car next week, I’d joke to my granddad. Then, I woke up at 4am in the morning, feeling completely violated. Anyone could, if they wanted to, get into my car and take whatever they wanted. What gives them the right to do so? Why aren’t they paying the £202.43 to pay for my new window?
I still feel pretty violated by the whole thing. But the window got fixed and I am £200ish out of pocket. Such as life. Worse things happen. And I have learnt my lesson: hide everything.
So in perspective, what happened this week is nothing compared to what happened last year. In fact, this time last year, I was probably talking to my Mum and Dad about organ donation. My Dad was still around and we had no idea what would happen in a couple of weeks’ time would happen. Through this whole ordeal, it has made me understand how much family means.
I am very lucky to have a family who still speak about Dad and still tell his stories, however I know that this has affected all of us so much. If I’ve had a really bad Dad day, I will have a flashback of the early hours of 10th April 2010 and I won’t sleep (rather like tonight, I guess). My brother will sometimes text me, when he’s drunk, and say how much he misses Dad. My Mum will sit in the car and tell me of how she heard a song and almost heard Dad singing it.
I suppose the worst thing about the year gone is that it has gone so quickly but yet so slowly. It feels like it was almost two minutes ago that it happened, but I have changed so much as a person because of it and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about Dad. But I am so worried that I am going to forget who my Dad was and the stories that we had. I suppose that’s why I started this blog, really; to write down and remember what I was feeling and the specific memories that stuck out, like the fact that this time last year, he would’ve just come back from Tenerife and be completely chuffed that the bar man out there would spot him and Mum walking towards them and start pouring a Barcardi and bottled coke before they even stepped in there, and that he’d worked so hard to get nine weeks holiday.
Every song that he used to sing, I will always hear in his voice. I just miss having him around. So I don’t think I’m being unfair. Maybe a little selfish but I just miss my Dad so much. In terms of grief, no one can tell you how you feel, because everyone feels differently. Everyone has a different relationship with every other person they know, so there is no way that my Mum or brother could be feeling how I am about missing my Dad. I suppose this blog is my release…