It’s been five days since he died and so much has happened if feels like a month and yet it’s not even a week.
I don’t feel sad all the time and despite the awful, life changing event that’s just happened I’ve laughed a lot, which I feel terribly guilty about.
Yesterday a man called the house and asked to speak to my Dad and I told him he couldn’t because he was dead. Just like that, he asked me why I was laughing and even though I didn’t know I was, I replied that I hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly.
He was a broker cold calling my Dad I believe, to sell him something, but he said ‘you sound very happy, have a nice afternoon.’ And he hung up.
I froze. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt sick, hot and then cold. Had this man exposed my inner most feelings? Am I happy my Dad is dead?
And then I realised; it’s a joke to me, it’s ridiculous, my Dad isn’t dead! It’s a joke right? It’s a ridiculous prank! He can’t be dead…he just can’t. He’s got so much to do, he’s got art classes to go to, tennis to play, business to attend to, he’s got to show me how to do his accounts…
I wanted to shout and scream at that fucking broker, I wanted more than anything to be able to tell him that he had no right, no fucking right to comment on how I was feeling. Who the fuck did he think he was? How dare he!
It’s just very hard to except this new normal, this news that my Dad is not coming back, that’s the trouble. It’s such a new and intangible concept that I can’t seem to quite reach. I’m trying out the words, repeating them over and over and trying to imagine our lives, Mum and me, without him.
My own life has ceased to exist except through the love and support of my beautiful friends. And that makes my concept of my new normal seem even farther away. I have made one decision – I won’t leave my Mum. I will be here for her till she’s ok, I’m not going anywhere. So for now for today this is the norm. There’s so much to do. If my Dad’s really not coming back…