Depressing post.
Dec. 13th, 2009 12:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silver_sunIt would have been my dad's birthday today.
I still don't know, even now six years on from when he died, how I should feel. We weren't close, my parents divorced when I young, and I hadn't seem him in years when it happened.
The fact that he was alone, that I didn't find out until weeks afterwards, that he didn't even seem to have any friends to organise anything for him, not even a funeral. The council arranged it, carried it out. I don't even know where he's buried. It still hurts that I couldn't have been a better daughter.
I think it's having a kid of my own now that just seems to make it worse this year. Knowing that my dad won't see his grandson, and that Alexander will never know his granddad.
It makes me worry for the rest of my family. There are so few of them and none of them are in good health, and my mum seems to get worse every time I talk to her. The doctors seem useless in finding out what's wrong, what's made her go from somebody who used to go on twenty mile hill walks with me to somebody who is so unsteady on her feet that some days she struggles to get up out of a chair or tie her shoes. Her being taken to hosptial in an ambulence is now so frequent the family don't even bother calling me when it happens anymore.
It just feels like I'm going to lose all of them. If I'm honest I know I'm going to lose them. When five out of six of your family are OAPs ranging between sixty and ninetyfive and the other has had two transplants, it sort of becomes inevitable.
Sorry for the depressing tone of this post, but I really can't be happy today.
I still don't know, even now six years on from when he died, how I should feel. We weren't close, my parents divorced when I young, and I hadn't seem him in years when it happened.
The fact that he was alone, that I didn't find out until weeks afterwards, that he didn't even seem to have any friends to organise anything for him, not even a funeral. The council arranged it, carried it out. I don't even know where he's buried. It still hurts that I couldn't have been a better daughter.
I think it's having a kid of my own now that just seems to make it worse this year. Knowing that my dad won't see his grandson, and that Alexander will never know his granddad.
It makes me worry for the rest of my family. There are so few of them and none of them are in good health, and my mum seems to get worse every time I talk to her. The doctors seem useless in finding out what's wrong, what's made her go from somebody who used to go on twenty mile hill walks with me to somebody who is so unsteady on her feet that some days she struggles to get up out of a chair or tie her shoes. Her being taken to hosptial in an ambulence is now so frequent the family don't even bother calling me when it happens anymore.
It just feels like I'm going to lose all of them. If I'm honest I know I'm going to lose them. When five out of six of your family are OAPs ranging between sixty and ninetyfive and the other has had two transplants, it sort of becomes inevitable.
Sorry for the depressing tone of this post, but I really can't be happy today.