The One About My Dad.

Sorry my sugah butts I am not even going to try and explain this or make it make sense. Just gotta get this off my heart before it renders me without breath. Uuuuh-gain. Some more.

You know, it is one thing to lose a child. No matter when it happens, how it happens, if you orchestrate the last day by stopping treatment, there is never enough time to say everything you want, to spend the time you need and to kiss kiss kiss their little defenseless heads enough. There is no enough, there is no too much, there is no fulfillment, satiation is not possible.

My son, my Jackson, was taken from me literally within minutes of being born. I didn't get to hold him, I barely got to see him before he was whisked away. Then he was stolen, oh you're damn right, stolen from me and taken to an altogether different hospital while I was unable to move with him. Finally, I was able to go to him, then to another hospital. But still no touching, no holding, no loving. Just suits and tubes and wires and glass between us. I never got to hold him skin to skin until the last day. Oh my heart, just typing that sentence burns me, flames lick at my skin, my arms ache and my stomach burns. Oh my little man, my baby, I am so sorry. You needed love and touch and kindness all those days, not solitary confinement from the people who love you so, so much.

And that is the distinction. I could keep writing about my love, my baby but it's all summed up completely by just saying, it was never enough. It could never be enough. I hear him everyday, I talk to him everyday, I hear him cry in my dreams, he will always be here because it will never be enough, the bleeding ebbs but is never staunched.

But my dad, oh my dad. It was enough. It was enough ten years ago, honestly. No, I don't mean to say, '' WOW! I shore do wish my dad had kicked it a decade ago, WOO HOO!!'', no, my babies, I don't mean that, at all. I mean that my dad loved me. Period. Fully. There is nothing I have ever tried to do or wanted that I haven't accomplished, most certainly including driving a rig and I attribute that largely to the fact that my dad never, ever told me I could not. He wasn't a cheerleader, he didn't have it in him to blow smoke, he just firmly believed that whatever my mom, my sister and myself wanted to do, we could. Full stop. There isn't an amount of money you can pay for that kind of faith.

Not confidence confused with faith, no. Confidence as he always reminded us comes from within, it cannot be given, even as a gift. Faith though, faith from someone else in your abilities, your talents, your skills, is priceless. Make a note of that shit, Mastercard because that is what absolutely has no cost. His faith in me cost me nothing and he gave it freely, just like his love.

And it was enough, it was enough. And I feel awesome that even though his life was taken, stolen, so suddenly that he died with no regrets, no enemies, no hard feelings and the unshaken knowledge that everybody he loved, knew it. From his words, his actions, his faith, his life. He is gone but other than that, we're cool, you know? No unspoken words, no lasting harshness. Love, respect, faith and all that good shit, you know?

Same can be said for my D. Oh my Darryl. How I do love that man. He reaches me, he gets me, he lets me get him, he fits me, we are best friends, lovers and partners in crime. And if (knock on wood, salt over shoulder etc.) something were to happen to him tomorrow, it would shatter my soul but tomorrow or eighty years from now, it will have been enough. We dig each other, you get me? Nothing left unspoken, no secret grudges, no I told you so's left in the fight, it's just been enough and for that I will go to my own damn urn knowing that I was luckier than 98% of the world population for having had my D for a day or longer. It's good, that love. Fills you up like pancakes and bacon with a mimosa on Sunday morning while you do the crosswords and play footsies under the table and revel in the lusty banging that preceeded breakfast leaving you both ravenous but content in the aftermath, the afterglow. Living together what we have experienced, it's all afterglow at this point and a more grateful or gratified bitch you will not find. And that, is enough.

But if my dad, in his love and faith, gave enough and was given enough, why then am I still so fucking angry. It's awful to say outloud, especially about a baby but yes, I have found myself struggling at times with anger at Jackson. Yes, at Jackson, not just about his loss. Angry for leaving me, angry for my empty arms, angry for my empty, violated womb, incapable of insuring his safety in this world, worthless to protect him but yet and still in moment, angry at my baby for deserting me. Tortured at the loss, stimied by the guilt and so rageful. But why, why so mad about my dad? Why so angry at my dad? LIke I said, it was all good up in our own personal hood, no worries, all cherry sodas and chocolate pie.

I couldn't have asked for a better father, a better man. I can in no way feasibly expect more, I can't be entitled to feel cheated. I had enough, really. But I want more and I am beyond pissed that with death, comes the certainty of no more.

Comments

[woodstove]

You already know that anger and rage are normal reactions to profound grief, and you have been hit with multiple body blows for several years now.

Feel what you feel. It's OK, and as usual, your honesty is amazing.

Googling "grief +anger" brings up a gazillion websites.

I kind of liked the following from one of them, even though it does sound a tad preachy.

The story is told of a Native American elder who was telling his grandson about his feelings following a recent loss. “I feel as if I have two wolves fighting within myself, one is hateful and vengeful, the other is loving and compassionate,” he told his grandson.

“Which one will win?” the grandson asked.

“The one I feed,” the grandfather replied.

[Jen K]

I get the anger, and it sucks, because I feel guilty.

Whenever it gets to be too much, I can't help looking at his pic and thinking, "see what a mess you left?"

Oh, and my dad. After I lost my son I had dreams, which, I KNOW I had dreams before, but I never remembered them, ever. But the post-Jakey dreams, they were always frustrating, mostly centered around discovering that my dad 1) was alive and 2) knew I'd lost my baby boy. I always found him, he never sought me, and I would wake up so angry.

[Bon]

there is no amount of money you can pay for that kind of faith, no.

and so to have him gone, to not have that any more to fall back on? after all the rest you've been through in the past few years? dude, i'd be angry too.

love, love, love.

[Headless Mom]

I get the anger. I hope that you also have days (many of them!) that you feel the enough, too.

[Chandra]

My heart aches for you. I've never experienced the loss you recount and I can only imagine how much it hurts and angers you. Your honesty is golden and I hope your heart heals.

[maggie, dammit]

So gorgeous.

[Loralee]

This was beautiful and painful. My heart shredded for you and your sweet wee one.
My eyes are leaking. xoxoxo

[karla]

I love what Headless Mom said. I hope that for you too.
xoxoxo

[woodstove]

Shannon, you are not posting here or on Twitter.

worried....

[HomeFree]

Thinking of you and hope everything is OK. I wish I could twitter you to let you know instantly that someone (me, Im nobody but...)cares. Im waiting for a replacement phone/sim card. Someone thought my old blackberry might sell for more than $20.00 bucks on ebay I guess and swiped it on me.

[Celaine]

Checking a couple times a day to see how you are. Praying for you and hoping all is going well.

[Jen K]

Miss you, hope all is well.

[Rsoemary]

Check every day, but haven't written .. I'm sorry that I haven't let you know that this stranger is thinking about you.. When you get a chance, please update..

[Sharon]

Yeah, I'm a stranger too... a longtime lurker, hoping that you're doing okay.

[woodstove]

I just twitter on the internet, not phone, and really, only to keep track of Shannon.

She has posted a few times, one yesterday about her dog Sadie, just for all you non-twittering people.

[Knickers]

Hey woodstove, thanks for updating us.

[rawdawgbuffalo]

hats off to dad

[Rosemary]

thanks for updating, woodstove.. it's strange how worried you can get about someone you've never even met! shannon just seems to be such an amazing person, and i've followed her story for so long..

deels, hope things are continuing to go well with the kids...