The Game of Life

I am going in so many directions right now that I actually recorded a voice memo of what I wanted to say in this blog. The moment the need to blog hit me I was driving through town and I knew 500 more things would fly through my brain before I made it to my computer.
In dealing with Daddy's death I have discovered that there are many stages to grief. They don't go in any particular order or come the same way for any two people. Right now I'm at a stage where I don't cry much, but I miss him. There are places and activities that hold a lot of memories with him. It feels like an empty spot in my chest at those times. In 30 seconds, I go from a happy memory, to missing him, to the realization that he is dead (as there is no nice way to say it), and finally back to stability. When the moment has passed I feel relieved and proud of myself that I can have a period of grief and move on. I know that this is not a permanent stage. I will, no doubt, regress into intense weeping, but I will also once again rise to a stage of happy memories and thankfulness for the time I had. In ten days I will be handed the keys to my very own apartment. The bills are in my name. The lease is in my name. I selected the cable and internet bundle and set up the installation. It is my responsibility to pay the bills, the rent, and most horrifically to clean. I wish Daddy could see it. I know he does. I know he would be proud. I know that after "existing on your own" comes the so-called "love story that leads to marriage". I'm excited for all of these things. The days ahead will be filled with both happy and sad tears. Bittersweet growing pains. I have to learn to let go of my mom as much as she has to learn to let go of me. (Just don't tell her I said that.) So here I go Daddy...on my own. I can't call you to fix the toilet, change my oil, or buy my groceries. But it's ok. You and mom raised me well. I can do this.
On to Alexx. The story of our friendship is a soap opera. I heard of his existence and immediately decided I didn't like him. He met me and decided he liked me. Boy meets girl. Girl falls for boy. You know how it goes. We've had a few extra twists and turns in there. For instance, we ended up cousins. Cool trick, huh? Months ago we ended anything beyond friendship and the hope there of. There are infinite reasons why we would never work, although that could be said for any relationship. In a matter of days he will be in Iraq. I would go as far as to say that I would rather relive the lies than see him go to war. War is out of my control. Out of his control. He can't come running when something happens. In a lot of ways he has taken up some of the "dad" jobs. He fixes my lame drawer every time it breaks. He buys me things I don't deserve. More importantly he has been here through it all. As cheesy as it sounds, he was the only one that could make me smile when I first withdrew from school for depression. He was the first to mention withdrawing as a possibility. It turned out to be the right decision. The morning Daddy died he was the first one here. He took care of things. I don't even know what all he did. I don't remember many of those details. But I know he was here. And I know that if another crisis were to strike he'd be here again. I don't want him to have the chance to prove it though! Now here I am with another emotional hole to crawl out of and where is he, but the sandbox. I am thankful for the sacrifices our soldiers make. This is the closest I've ever been to someone in the military. I'm proud of him and all he has accomplished. My dad would have loved to see all that he has become and is going to be. Daddy wanted so badly to be a father figure to Alexx when he needed one. Just to hang out and do "boy" things. They went fishing and horseback riding and hiking and all that when we went to Gatlinburg. Daddy really enjoyed the company. Alexx may never know how much of an impact him saluting my Daddy at the graveside means to me. To see him cry and honor my father will forever endear him to me no matter what the future brings. Selfishly, I am thankful that we are only friends. I can't imagine having your partner, boyfriend, fiancee what have you, gone into danger. At the same time it doesn't change how much I care. I guess just the way I care. It's hard to ignore his absence when I spend 40 hours a week at his house, surrounded by his face. There are many times that Reagan acts just like him, minus the ability to walk and talk of course. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't like it. I'd rather him be here and safe and hate his guts every now and then, than him be in Iraq. God is good and mighty. My God is mighty to save. And save and protect His child he will. Lord please give him strength, wisdom, and of course protection.