I still can't say Goodbye Dad

I miss my dad so much. He passed away in April a few years ago. Nothing around the holidays is the same without him. His birthday was on Christmas Day. And of course there's no way you could ever forget that. I feel bad, because he always said he hated having his birthday on Christmas. He never had a birthday, it was always just the holidays. You would've thought knowing that, I would try to do something to make it different for him. But I didn't. Like most people, I thought I had all the time in the world with him. I thought he was invincible, and I thought he would be here forever. I thought we'd always had time to make new memories and reminisce on our old memories. But that is not the case. Of course I know that no one is invincible. I mean of course there's Superman, Batman and Capt. America. But come on now this is real life.

Real loss. 

Real grief. 

And the thought is ever so real that my children one day will never get to know their grandfather. And that really sucks because he would've been one of the best grandfather's in the world. My stepsister has a son named Chance, and my dad loved Chance like there was no tomorrow. My dad called himself Papa and to this day Chance can still remember him, which is awesome! I think those boys had a very special bond because my dad was lucky enough to have all daughters. And I'm sure he always wondered what it was like to have a son. So when his grandson came around, watch out world!! He was so in love.

Now that he's been gone for little while, I feel like some people cannot get over the past. Everybody has a past. And if you don't, your lying. Or hiding it. Regardless. 

Some of my lovely family members are finding it a good idea, I guess, to paint my dad in a bad light. Which is messing with my my memory of him. And I know the truth. I know.

Sadly, my dad was an alcoholic. Alcoholism ate up his life. And the only reason it did that, is because he was really just so unhappy. He also suffered from depression and was bipolar. Now as a child and still as an adult today, I contribute some of those things to the fact that he fought in Vietnam. He had to defend this country in a time where a large part of American citizens did not feel like our country needed defending. There is a big difference between supporting the war, and supporting the troops. Back then if you did not support the war, people simply did not support our troops. Now when our family members should have come home to a welcoming thank you, they instead came home to hatred. People spitting on them, throwing tomatoes at them. I can not, and I do not want to imagine the hell they saw, and the hell they went through. I can't imagine how those Vietnam Vets found strength in themselves to come home and try their best to live as normal of a life as possible. Sadly, lots of those Veterans did not accomplish that. Like my father, for example. 

I could have it all wrong. Maybe he was just born to live a hard, trying life. Maybe God felt it was necessary to place every struggle and burden against him, always testing one of his strongest soldiers. But I feel like he should have had a happy ending somewhere in life. Instead of secretly fighting Lymphoma and somehow managing to die of a heart attack one night with my little sister watching him struggle to live. Watching him struggle that night, and many nights before. Not a happy ending. 
Never getting to meet the three amazing kids my older sister had. Not getting to make right the relationship they both needed and wanted. Not a happy ending. 
I guess the happiest of things to come out of our loss and mourning, that never goes away, was all 3 of his biological daughters finally getting to meet. There's something happy to be found in that. He always called us 'his girls', including my step sister from my step mom's previous marriage. He loved us girls more than anything. And he would die, and he did, getting us all a chance to reconnect and build relationships. Sounds great right?

IT'S SO NOT FAIR.
Life isn't fair. No one said it would be fair. Loss is a part of life. Blah Blah Blah. I still miss the hell out of my Dad and would give anything - ANYTHING for one more phone call. One last Holiday. One last hug. 

So many different thoughts in my head through this grieving process. Because it's a long, never ending process. 

What would have been so wrong about getting 'knocked up' at a young age. That way my child/children could know their grandfather. Their Papa. But my Dad loved that I was responsible and trustworthy. Would he have loved me the same? Maybe I wouldn't have done some of the things I have if he was still here. I wouldn't have ran away to the beach to get married, because I wouldn't have the nightmares of walking down the aisle alone, everyone staring. I tried thinking of different important men in my life that could do the honors. It's just not the same. Maybe I would have taken school more seriously if I had his weekly phone calls with him telling me how proud he is of me. I replay his voicemails sometimes. But it's not the same.

I get in these 'it's not fair funks' and it gets harder and harder to fight my way out of them. I want home here. I want to call and tell him that Josh is graduating next weekend. He would be so happy! He loved Josh. He loved me. He truly loved my mom. That feeling and happiness never goes away. And I think of it often. 

Please forgive me when I can't talk to you about your dad. Or your kids and their love for their grandpa. Excuse me when I stay still and silent when I can't say anything nice, so I don't say anything at all. 

Cry As Much as you Want to

Gosh dang. I am so tired of crying. And I cry for the same reason more often than not. Every month is a slap in the face. I guess I should say every 38-40 days, because I have a super long cycle. It's like walking on egg shells with my own body, waiting to see if Aunt Flo shows. Hoping that after almost 3 years, she's late because I'm pregnant. But nope. Just nope. Now, I don't talk to many people about our infertility struggle for many reasons. Some of those being shame, embarrassment, guilt, it's a personal subject and because I want to catch everyone by surprise when it does happen. It will happen, right? I also like to keep this to myself because I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me, and I honestly don't want your advice. I've tried lots of things. I've heeded advice and warnings from my general doctor and multiple OB/Gyno's. I have yet to visit a fertility specialist or a reproductive endocrinologist because that scares me. This may be childish but I don't care! We all deal with things differently. But, crying somehow makes me feel better. I just always remember this phrase "Cry as much as you want to, but just make sure when you're finished, you never cry for the same reason again," because I hope one day that I won't continue crying for the same reason.
This was short and sweet, but I was feeling kind of sorry for myself last night. I have slept my pity party away and have toughened up a bit.
On to the next.
Until next time!
Love ya's,
Cassie Cass