So I was waiting patiently for the sadness of realizing my dad is dead to kick in and for a breakdown. It never came. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. I was going on each day thinking of all of the things about him that made me mad, and I would get myself worked up and angry. It wasn't helping anything, nor was it in any way therapeutic. So, just out of the blue, as I was driving along one morning on my paper route, I went to start thinking unhappy thoughts, and it hit me. I realized that he is gone. I will never see him again. I will never feel guilty for not being a perfect daughter to a man who didn't care. I will never go visit and have to put on an act of happy Christi who cares that her father knows her children. I will never have to ponder what my children should call him, b/c "Mommy's Daddy" just sounds stupid, but I refuse to call him "Paw-Paw". I will never call him a month after Christmas b/c I waited for him to call me to wish me a Merry Christmas, and he didn't, and I feel like I should at least apologize for not calling him. I will never feel awkward wondering what his wife thinks of me and says about me when I'm not around and she's turned her act off, too. I will never have to deal with any of that stuff again. I will never have to be mad at him for what he's done and the father he hasn't been. He's gone. Now, any anger I have would be directed at no one, nothing. It's the most wasteful anger I can imagine. It's officially over. 100% over. I no longer have a father to worry about my relationship with. It's not upsetting at all. It's actually cathartic. Who knows, maybe one day I'll have that breakdown I was waiting for, but I don't think so. Aside from someone mentioning his death here and there, and writing this, since the day I came to this realization I haven't even been able to make myself think of him anymore. I tried the next day to do it, have the angry thoughts, and I couldn't. My brain just said, "Nope, it's done," and it wouldn't go further. I had to think of something else. So, naturally, I brooded over my financial situation. You know, sometimes you just have to get your unhappy thoughts out!

So, it's over.

There's so much more I wanted to write about, but I can't for the life of me think of any of it right now. I'll try to write again tomorrow when my brain can focus a little better.

Okay, so my dad died on Sunday. He had pneumonia that had been going on for a while, and that was on top of hip cancer, or something like that, that was eating up his bones and slowly killing him. In my opinion, after having seen him in the hospital a couple of weeks ago, he was probably better off. I don't keep in touch much with him, but from what I heard, he's been doing a lot of suffering for a while now. That's certainly no way to live. Of course, I also know that he brought a lot of it on himself (this cancer was just one of many he had) through his wild and reckless living all these years.

Anyway, I have yet to, as my mom put it, "grieve", and seriously doubt that I will. Honestly, I think I was on the best terms with Daddy out of his four kids, but that's not saying much. I would go and see him on occasion, but for the most part, I kept my distance. I have a LOT of bitterness that I hold against him for many, many reasons that I don't care to go into. Let's just say that he was by far not the best dad, or even a good one at that. What's worse, though, is that I am not even as upset at him for his treatment of me as I am his treatment of his other children. He was bad to me. He very obviously cared very little for me, as well as his other three children, but he did seem to think of me as a smart girl, and openly said so (usually in front of another sibling while he was drunk, therefore putting me in an awkward situation).

For some reason, though, his actions didn't affect me like they did my older sister and little brother. My brother, although he keeps to himself for the most part, was really upset about Daddy's death, and has always been deeply affected by what he does. Daddy actually went to the trouble of trying to bond with him while he was a teenager, then abruptly left him high and dry to go pursue other lives he'd rather live. He also consistently shit on my sister at every venture, even though she has always been the most loyal and giving to him. She, too, was upset at the news of his passing, and espoused to me that she feels guilty. I can't imagine why she would, as she has always been the best daughter he could ever ask for, while he has been the worst father she could have been dealt. My older brother and I don't seem too upset over this news. Wesley has moved on with his life. I don't blame him.

So that brings this to me. I'm not sure how to feel. I mean, I know how I feel. Still bitter. I'm not upset that he died. I've tried to be. I feel like I should shed a tear or something. At least feel some level of sadness for a minute or something. Trey thinks it just hasn't settled in yet, but I really just think I don't care. I know he's dead. My life doesn't feel like it's missing anything, except maybe the twinge of guilt I'd feel every now and then that I never go to see him. Now I don't have to, so if anything, I'm actually relieved that he died.

Is that wrong? It seems wrong. I mean, like it or not, he was my dad. I got my brown eyes and moodiness from him. I got my extremely dry skin from him. There's a little curly-cue on the back of my head that I'm pretty sure came from him. I can't tell a joke or story w/o going on for days, that definitely came from him. Shouldn't that factor into my feelings and make me feel a little at a loss? Cause I don't. I feel a tiny bit guilty that I don't feel guilty, but only b/c I feel like I'm breaking some kind of social rule. Oh, I dunno. I don't guess I can make myself sad if I'm not. Siiiiiiggggggghhhhhhhhhh.........

We went to the playground the other day, and while we were there, there were some baseball games going on on the fields next to us. I decided it might be fun to take the kids and let them watch a game. So, while we were watching, I was explaining to TJ how everything in the game works, and he became interested. He decided that he wants to play, but not till he's eight (he's six), or ten, depending on how old you have to be. I told him he can play now if he wants, but he was intent that he has to wait till he's eight.

So, anyway, flash forward to today. Julia found out about a throw together baseball game that they were having through a homeschooling group she's in, and told me about it. So we went to Walmart last night and picked up a little glove and ball for TJ, and rode up there today to give him a try playing baseball. There were about 12 kids, all w/in the ages of about 6 to 13, mostly 8ish. He was excited, and I took him to the outfield and explained what he had to do as he stood at second base. All seemed well.

So the game started. TJ stood quietly at second base, looking around and trying to figure out what to do. The kid on first was 13 and about twice the height of TJ, so he was doing most of the work. About five minutes into the game, a little boy hit a ball right to TJ. I yelled, "TJ, look at the ball!" It was too late. It flew right at his head and bounced off of his forehead. TJ was just standing there with a blank look on his face, and had never seen it coming. He, naturally, was very upset and wanted to give up and go home (we had a talk, and I wasn't having that...not after I bought a new glove and everything!). I, on the other hand, couldn't stop laughing! I feel so bad, but it was SO FUNNY looking when the ball bounced off his head! It just went, "BOOP!" It was like a cartoon or something!

I told Trey about it when we got home, and again, all I could do was laugh hysterically the whole time. TJ screamed at me "IT'S NOT FUNNY!" over and over again, but that doesn't change the fact that in my head he's a little cartoon, and everytime I think of it, I get uncontrollable giggles. I'm such a bad mommy....

I will add, though, he went on to play kickball after that game was over, and did quite well--two homeruns! I told him we'll practice this week, and next week, maybe he'll be able to actually play baseball....we'll see!

I don't have pics from today, but here are some just b/c:



This is Taryn in makeup. Oh lordy she looks older! I'm not down with that!