Sunday, February 3, 2013

Another Piece Gone...

     Today I went into the garage to have a smoke with the old man. Just too damn cold out to smoke out in the open. I huddled by the little heater, lit my cigarette, inhaled and froze. My eyes fixed on this big empty space in front of me. It was gone. My father's chair was gone. A million thoughts raced through my head, falling dead before I could even put them to words. I felt another piece of my heart shatter and fall away. I felt tears pricking at my eyes as I desperately tried to shove this all down.
  • Me: "Where'd it go?"
  • Mr: "Where'd what go?"
  • Me: "No, really."
  • Mr: "Where did WHAT go?"
  • Me: "Don't fucking do that.. Where the fuck did it go?"
  • Mr: "Don't worry about it."
     I'm sure he was trying to protect me from the pain of hearing that he had tossed my father's chair into a dumpster somewhere. But it didn't work. I'm not stupid, It took me all of 3 seconds to figure it out. I know that the chair was in terrible shape to begin with. And his total mess of a garage had so warmly invited critters in from the cold to huddle under the masses of garbage and other miscellaneous shit. He said a squirrel had torn it up the underside of it. No shit, I warned you that was going to happen. I've been on you for 2 years to get the damn garage cleaned out... Nevermind, I'm not even gonna go there right now.

     Anyways, we had previously had a conversation about the chair a month or so back. I had told him that I knew the chair needed to get thrown out, and that one day, it would. But that I was NOT ready for it to happen yet. Which is why it was such a shock to see it gone. I get that it was not my father and that it was just a chair. But you see, that was one of VERY few pieces of my dad that I had left. My dad sat in that chair every single day for I can't even tell you how long. He held my kiddies on that chair. We had countless conversations while he sat in that chair. We watched the 9/11 coverage as it happened while he sat in that chair. So many stories he told me from that chair. When he got sick and the paramedics were checking him out, he was in that chair. I remember thinking how terribly tiny he looked in it that day That was the last chair my dad ever sat in, besides an occasional hospital chair. I had always kinda hoped to find a way to have it redone.

     And the tears came. Mike stood up and hugged me for a minute. And when I just stood there, he offered "You can hug me back ya know.", but I couldn't lift my arms to hug him back. I couldn't find words. I just stood there motionless and cried. I cried hard. I could feel my whole body shaking from holding back the intense urge to scream. Not words, just to scream. To release this sudden wave of unfiltered pain. I'm not sure how, but I held it in.

     To take something, no matter what it was, that meant so much to me, that held so many memories for me, that I was not ready to part with, and throw it away without even mentioning it, is NOT ok. I would never think to do that to someone. Again, I know it was just a chair, but the intense grief that I feel over losing it is no joke. I can't stop crying. I feel so numb, so alone, so completely fucking devastated. So betrayed.

     Will I get over it? Of course. But it is going to take time.
11:00 PM / by / 0 Comments

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