Three years without you. · 5:57pm May 9th, 2020
Three years ago today, my second-dad figure passed away in hospital after entering with liver failure. Sadly, I found out two days later while at my gf's grandmother's house, which hurt considerably more given that I wasn't in the country at the time, despite my protests, and was forced to miss the funeral.
I think about him quite a lot. Like, his name goes through my head at least a few hundred times a day and it's impossible to forget a man like him. For those of you old enough to remember The Teletubbies and Teletubby Toast, we were not far from my house when we were allowed to visit, and he was in the kitchen with me. I remember perfectly him making me toast and he cut around a plate to make the slice circular and he cut a smiley face into it, like Teletubby Toast. As a kid, I was obviously thrilled about it.
While at my mother's house, we open the bedroom window on the second floor and go outside to sit on top of the bay window ledge, sitting beside each other for about an hour or two and watching the traffic. We'd talk about everything, and he'd mostly chat about grown-up stuff, seeing as he treated me like one, which was nice to not feel like a stupid kid like all the other grown ups did. It'd be just us, sat chilling while he clasped a pint of cider in his hands, drinking occasionally and smoking. Somehow, I miss those moments more than anything. It's not the same if you're not sat with an Elvis-reminiscent guy smoking a cigarette and talking in a charming, charismatic voice. His vocals were like a lullaby.
There was this one time we were sat in the living room. I asked to play his acoustic guitar, and he let me, which lead to me badly plucking at the strings while he sang a song randomly about mum's cat, who was named Puss Cat, because...meow.
I know this might sound bad on my actual dad, but I actually felt so much acceptance from this guy. He showed he loved me and my older brother and he was always around to talk to us and he always put up with both of our shit, which was so nice. He just never got angry, either. He'd never yell at us, show he was annoyed or anything. He would simply be calm and relaxed, very open and very sweet to us. He'd never do anything bad to us, and he treated us like we were his own kids. I can't even describe how sad I was when I was having a conversation over Messenger with my auntie about him and she told me that he thought of us as if we were his own two boys. Personally, I felt like I was his kid, solely because he treated me so much like it.
When I found out he was gone, I remember it feeling like I had taken an iron fist full of glass to the stomach. I randomly scrolled the page down on my phone while on Facebook and discovered the post about it with a picture of him on it. If there ever was a worse way to find out, I didn't want to know it - this would suffice just perfectly, thank you.
Wanna know what I miss the most? Being able to talk to him like we used to do whenever we were in the same room. He would always be up for a chat and he was always fun to talk to and hang out with. He'd pretty much act a bit childish at times, which was always a good trait. He was basically the dad any kid would dream of having. Man, we'd just sit there some nights and watch TV together until Family Guy came on and he'd always laugh at the way Brian barks. He used to always say he loved it whenever he barks, even more so when cutaway moments came in featuring Conway Twitty. He loved that guy's voice and style, even though I can't say I'm a fan. We'd sit like that for hours on end until he either fell asleep beside me or until he went to bed, leaving me with the cat, if it was around.
So, yeah, that's just a few of my most prominent memories of him. I wish so bad that he was still here, and it still doesn't feel real to me at all that he's gone. I miss him so much. Life is weird and painful to live without his presence around, and when I say I pictured him as my dad away from my day, I processed his death as if I actually did lose my dad. If this is how bad I reacted to his death, trying to block out my sorrow with alcohol until I'm too numb to care if I lived or died myself, I'm wondering how awful it'll be when my actual dad isn't around anymore. Mortality can kiss the fattest part of my hairy ass. It can keep the hairs, too. A little souvenir to say, ''Fuck you, mortality. You can't have me, or those I love.''
Rest in peace, dearest. Everybody misses you, and I wish you got to meet my sister. She would have loved you, and I'm sure you'd have loved her all the same. I wish you could come back, if only one time, to hang out again for the sake of old times. I love you, Elvis. When I see you again, you can say ''Light me up, Johnny,'' when I need my cigarette lighting. Peace, love, empathy.
I just want you back. Once again, I love you and miss you so much. 💛💛💛💛💛💛
Hey hope it gets better mate!
Hey man, no one deserves that. You had every right to be there for his final resting place. And I'm sure he would have wanted you to be there. But the memories you have mean he's never truly gone. Because he left a piece of himself behind with you. And it sucks that you weren't there but you should know that death isn't the end ,it's a new beginning for those willing to take it. We all care for you man and we're all willing to talk to you.
I can't say I 100% understand, but I have lost my father, so I think I know what it is like. The wounds will never go away, but the pain will fade, just keep his memory alive
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Living life without a parent sounds absolutely dreadful. Sympathies, Fantasy. It aggravates me tremendously whenever a person who has both their parents tries to dictate to a person who's actually lost one or both parents how bad it is and that they understand. That's happened multiple times in my life and it beyond infuriates me, so I hope you've not dealt with any of that before. Sorry about your dad.
I also intend on keeping his memory alive, through personal experiences together and through music. I loved that man. 💛
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💛
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Believe me, I wish I was. The night I was at the bar in the night after the funeral had taken place and I knew I had missed it, I got so drunk I was lucky to make it back to the hotel room before I passed out in bed. My vision was literally swimming. Add that in with it was the last night we were there, we had a half-day plane journey back, then the jetlag sets in during a few-hour-long trip from the airport back home and college was the following morning. Needless to say, I couldn't give two shits about the next 72 hours. It felt like I had lost a massive part of me. That was the drunkest and most sorrowful I had been, until that same year until August.
I will say this, though - the ones who stopped me going to his funeral in spite of my protests, if I had any scrap of respect for those people, it's completely destroyed now. They are selfish bastards and they deserve every minute of silence and disgust I can give them for what they did. I'm not accepting apologies, either. What's done is done, and they'll have to live with that, not that they give a toss. Bugger it, lad.
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Okay dude but remember we're all here for you
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It is. I have picked myself up together to where I can keep going, and I am grateful that most thoughts of him are happy ones, others give me sadness in knowing that I won't get to have any more with him. The only ones that really are crippling to think of is the ones near the end and right at the end. When he looked so lifeless...he was always such a happy man, a man we liked to be around, but those few moments, I can talk about them so long as I do not picture them vividly, then it just throws a wrench into whatever I am doing and I need to stop and clear my mind.
I thank you for your sympathy and thankfully I have not encountered anyone like that; yet.
I am very happy to hear that my friend. I hope it gives both you and him comfort.