Toki Wartooth
August 17th, 2009, 10:29 PM
One of my online friends reflected on the day her dad passed away. It got me to reflecting the day my own Dad passed...and what all stood out in my mind that day.
If you feel you may be "triggered" in any way, don't read the rest of the post. I don't want to make anyone feel too bad or anything. But, I do feel like I want to share the reflection...
I had been at the airport with my mom. She talked to some guy when we were checking my baggage's weight and stuff. He knew her, since she worked at the airport before. She scored a pass so that she could go through security with me and wait with me for the airplane, so I didn't have to wait anxiously, alone, for an hour and a half, or whatever it was. (Little did I know, that it was when we were waiting, that Papi had passed away already.)
I went to Charlotte. I ran to find my gate, to make sure I knew where it was. I ran to some phone store, asked a guy where the payphones were, since I couldn't afford a global phone. I found the ones nearest to my gate (or so I thought), tried calling home, and no one answered. The second time, lines crossed, and it was some lady I didn't recognize. Gave up. Ran to gate. Was one of the last few people allowed on the plane. I had a lot of those close calls during my Germany trip, actually.
The flight to Germany was long. Taking the trains from Frankfurt to Berlin felt even longer. I finally found myself in the right place, at Berlin Hauptbahnhof, having lost my ticket once at Hanover and being unable to take an earlier train to Berlin.
Walked slowly toward to the center, trying to find Pilar. My mom had told Pilar what I was wearing...and I think she spotted me first. We hugged, and we were both a bit teary. She graciously took my rolling luggage. (Ah, how deceiving!) We chatted about this and that, both walking and on the S-bahn, until we got to her apartment with Thomas.
I emailed my mom (I think it was just her anyway) immediately to let her know I was there, since I wasn't sure how to call yet, and I had had issues before.
She called fairly soon. I was mostly okay with her calling, expecting her to do so, but I also felt strange because it wasn't my Dad who was calling. Pilar answered, heard it was Mami, and then Pilar passed me the phone.
We said hi...but then, instead of asking me how my trip went or anything. She started saying, "Baby..."
"What?"
"Baby...listen to me..."
"...What?" (By then, I started sensing something was wrong.)
"Baby, listen to me. You have to be strong. Listen to what I'm telling you, and be strong, baby. Okay?"
"What?!" (At this point, I could kinda guess where this was going.)
"Baby...Papi is dead."
I screamed. This was when I fell onto the floor, and Pilar heard me. She ran from the kitchen to hold me.
My mom kept saying "baby" on the phone to get my attention, and Pilar kept asking me what was wrong, what happened, &c. I had enough control to blurt out, "Mein Vati ist tot!" meaning, "My dad is dead!" She made those noises of comfort (best way to describe them), kept rocking me and caressing me. My mom eventually got through to me.
The rest of the conversation was just my mom telling me to be brave, be strong, everything will be okay, there's nothing we can do, don't worry about anything, I'm taking care of things, get some rest, try to calm down, &c. Eventually I got ... kinda calm, I guess, and she said we'd talk soon about everything, and that she just wanted me to try and sleep. We eventually exchanged I love you's, and Pilar got me tissues and let me cry it out. She also seconded the advice of sleeping, at least for a time, so I slept on the couch in a sweater and some blankets.
When I woke up, Thomas had come home. I got up, and I walked into the kitchen. (I saw Pilar's silhouette through the kitchen door's "window." It's translucent, not transparent.) She said something or other, and then she had me meet with Thomas, who was on the computer. He stood up, came to me, shook my hand, and the first things he said were: hello, nice to see you [again], and I'm sorry about what happened...I lost a parent 9 years ago, and it isn't easy.
I don't remember what happened for a while, but later we went out, walking, and to this cafe place to sit outside, drink, and talk. They wanted to provide me with distractions. They did that, for the most part, the rest of the time I was with them.
Some know the details of the rest of my trip, though it isn't really important for me to think about right now. (I've experienced it, recounted it to people, and thought about it...but at other times and in different moods.)
I'm just sad. You know?
I strongly believe my Dad's still around, he's just not in the for I'm so used to being around him in. Sometimes I get cases of clairaroma, where I can smell his B.O. or his cologne or his kinda smoky-smelling clothing. I believe he communicates to me through dreams, too. And, I feel I receive "signs" in various ways, like finding pennies and dimes everywhere (long-ish story). One day, after a UU service, I looked at a table with books; one was about fathers and daughters. I opened it somewhere, arbitrarily, and let the pages slip very fast, until I stopped to look inside. I guess the chapters are titled by who wrote it because I saw the first page with the title: "Dewitt." - my Father's name. Just...a bunch of such things like that.
It's just still hard to adjust to the fact that's he's not physically here, at least in the "physical" that I know. He's around, and sometimes I sense him. It was just sudden...and it's so ... different.
Sigh. I don't know where I'm going with this. I just felt like saying stuff, and I feel sad and kinda lonely. I hope this slump doesn't stay with me through tomorrow because I have several appointments with various people/establishments starting early in the morning...
If you feel you may be "triggered" in any way, don't read the rest of the post. I don't want to make anyone feel too bad or anything. But, I do feel like I want to share the reflection...
I had been at the airport with my mom. She talked to some guy when we were checking my baggage's weight and stuff. He knew her, since she worked at the airport before. She scored a pass so that she could go through security with me and wait with me for the airplane, so I didn't have to wait anxiously, alone, for an hour and a half, or whatever it was. (Little did I know, that it was when we were waiting, that Papi had passed away already.)
I went to Charlotte. I ran to find my gate, to make sure I knew where it was. I ran to some phone store, asked a guy where the payphones were, since I couldn't afford a global phone. I found the ones nearest to my gate (or so I thought), tried calling home, and no one answered. The second time, lines crossed, and it was some lady I didn't recognize. Gave up. Ran to gate. Was one of the last few people allowed on the plane. I had a lot of those close calls during my Germany trip, actually.
The flight to Germany was long. Taking the trains from Frankfurt to Berlin felt even longer. I finally found myself in the right place, at Berlin Hauptbahnhof, having lost my ticket once at Hanover and being unable to take an earlier train to Berlin.
Walked slowly toward to the center, trying to find Pilar. My mom had told Pilar what I was wearing...and I think she spotted me first. We hugged, and we were both a bit teary. She graciously took my rolling luggage. (Ah, how deceiving!) We chatted about this and that, both walking and on the S-bahn, until we got to her apartment with Thomas.
I emailed my mom (I think it was just her anyway) immediately to let her know I was there, since I wasn't sure how to call yet, and I had had issues before.
She called fairly soon. I was mostly okay with her calling, expecting her to do so, but I also felt strange because it wasn't my Dad who was calling. Pilar answered, heard it was Mami, and then Pilar passed me the phone.
We said hi...but then, instead of asking me how my trip went or anything. She started saying, "Baby..."
"What?"
"Baby...listen to me..."
"...What?" (By then, I started sensing something was wrong.)
"Baby, listen to me. You have to be strong. Listen to what I'm telling you, and be strong, baby. Okay?"
"What?!" (At this point, I could kinda guess where this was going.)
"Baby...Papi is dead."
I screamed. This was when I fell onto the floor, and Pilar heard me. She ran from the kitchen to hold me.
My mom kept saying "baby" on the phone to get my attention, and Pilar kept asking me what was wrong, what happened, &c. I had enough control to blurt out, "Mein Vati ist tot!" meaning, "My dad is dead!" She made those noises of comfort (best way to describe them), kept rocking me and caressing me. My mom eventually got through to me.
The rest of the conversation was just my mom telling me to be brave, be strong, everything will be okay, there's nothing we can do, don't worry about anything, I'm taking care of things, get some rest, try to calm down, &c. Eventually I got ... kinda calm, I guess, and she said we'd talk soon about everything, and that she just wanted me to try and sleep. We eventually exchanged I love you's, and Pilar got me tissues and let me cry it out. She also seconded the advice of sleeping, at least for a time, so I slept on the couch in a sweater and some blankets.
When I woke up, Thomas had come home. I got up, and I walked into the kitchen. (I saw Pilar's silhouette through the kitchen door's "window." It's translucent, not transparent.) She said something or other, and then she had me meet with Thomas, who was on the computer. He stood up, came to me, shook my hand, and the first things he said were: hello, nice to see you [again], and I'm sorry about what happened...I lost a parent 9 years ago, and it isn't easy.
I don't remember what happened for a while, but later we went out, walking, and to this cafe place to sit outside, drink, and talk. They wanted to provide me with distractions. They did that, for the most part, the rest of the time I was with them.
Some know the details of the rest of my trip, though it isn't really important for me to think about right now. (I've experienced it, recounted it to people, and thought about it...but at other times and in different moods.)
I'm just sad. You know?
I strongly believe my Dad's still around, he's just not in the for I'm so used to being around him in. Sometimes I get cases of clairaroma, where I can smell his B.O. or his cologne or his kinda smoky-smelling clothing. I believe he communicates to me through dreams, too. And, I feel I receive "signs" in various ways, like finding pennies and dimes everywhere (long-ish story). One day, after a UU service, I looked at a table with books; one was about fathers and daughters. I opened it somewhere, arbitrarily, and let the pages slip very fast, until I stopped to look inside. I guess the chapters are titled by who wrote it because I saw the first page with the title: "Dewitt." - my Father's name. Just...a bunch of such things like that.
It's just still hard to adjust to the fact that's he's not physically here, at least in the "physical" that I know. He's around, and sometimes I sense him. It was just sudden...and it's so ... different.
Sigh. I don't know where I'm going with this. I just felt like saying stuff, and I feel sad and kinda lonely. I hope this slump doesn't stay with me through tomorrow because I have several appointments with various people/establishments starting early in the morning...