For some strange reason, it turns out that everyone on the Peninsula hasn't been notified that my dad died. This sucks, because it leads to conversations like this one. All brain thoughts appear in (parenthesis).
Me: "I'm dropping off my car to get the oil changed. I will pick it up tomorrow."
7,000 Year Old Car Man: "Oh ho ho Young Lady! You've only put on a few miles! You don't need your oil changed! (Aren't I clever and dapper?!)"
::puts his hand on my arm. wants to be friends. I back away as I would from an annoying, annoying snake.::
Me: "If I don't get the oil changed will it void my warranty? (Oh, for God's sakes!! It's 5:30 pm, and I only just changed out of my pajamas!! I spent the whole day watching TV and crying! Just take my money and leave me alone!)"
7,0000 Y.O. Car Man: "(I am so helpful and clever!) INFORMATION ABOUT CARS I DID NOT ASK FOR THAT HE TELLS ME EVERY TIME I GET MY OIL CHANGED"
This monologue lasts for approximately three weeks, during which he constantly tries to stand as close to me as possible. He wasn't hitting on me; he was just being super weird.
Me: "...if I don't get the oil changed will it void my warranty? (I literally don't have the ability to deal with this right now, and I swear to God I will drop the Dead Dad card on you. Don't make me do it. Don't make me do it!!!!)"
Car Man: "No, and here's why...(I cannot wait to tell this young lady all about the glorious world of cars!)"
Me: "Ok. I'm going to leave now. (Thank you Jesus for restraining me from killing that man or bursting into tears in front of all of these people.)"
That man has no idea how close he was to having a weeping, screaming woman in his autobay. He should thank Baby Jesus I didn't freak out on his ass. I just don't have the ability to deal with anything difficult right now.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Cooking
Now that Dad is dead I feel like my day is full of crying booby-traps. It turns out that some of the worst ones are set in the kitchen.
Eating and planning meals has become really sad and challenging. My dad has been so sick over the last two years that he had to abandon almost all of his hobbies. Eating was one of the few things that he was still able to enjoy towards the end of his life. He was also basically bed-bound for the last two years, so my mom and I made all of his foods. Over the last few years I made my dad hundreds of meals, and I know his likes and dislikes the way a mother knows her toddler.
This specific, now useless, set of knowledge has made mealtimes one of the saddest parts of my day.It's terrible to open the pantry and to make food for just myself. I had a can of peaches last night, and I cried because I couldn't give him the other half. So many foods just devastate me: white bread, ice cream, Coca Cola, Kraft macaroni and cheese, candy bars, frozen waffles, everything fast food or take-out (I know it looks lie we were trying to kill him with preservatives, but that's what he liked!).
The grocery store is horrible too. It feels terrible to walk past the cakes and doughnuts without stopping to get him a box. Preparing his food was such a huge part of my life as his caretaker, and I just can't believe that it's over. I think it's going to take a while to get used to cooking for one or two.
Eating and planning meals has become really sad and challenging. My dad has been so sick over the last two years that he had to abandon almost all of his hobbies. Eating was one of the few things that he was still able to enjoy towards the end of his life. He was also basically bed-bound for the last two years, so my mom and I made all of his foods. Over the last few years I made my dad hundreds of meals, and I know his likes and dislikes the way a mother knows her toddler.
This specific, now useless, set of knowledge has made mealtimes one of the saddest parts of my day.It's terrible to open the pantry and to make food for just myself. I had a can of peaches last night, and I cried because I couldn't give him the other half. So many foods just devastate me: white bread, ice cream, Coca Cola, Kraft macaroni and cheese, candy bars, frozen waffles, everything fast food or take-out (I know it looks lie we were trying to kill him with preservatives, but that's what he liked!).
The grocery store is horrible too. It feels terrible to walk past the cakes and doughnuts without stopping to get him a box. Preparing his food was such a huge part of my life as his caretaker, and I just can't believe that it's over. I think it's going to take a while to get used to cooking for one or two.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Back to School
Today was my first day back at school since my dad died, and it was really hard.
Our semester is officially over, but we are all taking a mandatory review course to prepare for our Boards. I thought that the class was at 1000 in room 730; it was actually at 0900 in room 700. The room isn't big enough, so I didn't have a desk until one of my classmates left halfway through the seven hour session. I spent class texting and playing games on my phone and trying not to cry. I also started my period in class, and left my water and snacks in the car. What a great day!!
It wasn't all that bad though. I sat next to a classmate who lost her dad two years ago, and it was nice to talk shop with another member of the Dead Parent Club who is a little further along than me. It's so nice to have someone else tell me that everything I'm doing and feeling is perfectly normal, and that while it get's better it doesn't ever really go away. I think that's a distinction a lot of people miss: I know that this will get better, but it's still a terrible, permanent loss. It felt nice to hear someone talk about how it gets better without minimizing what a big f'ing deal this is. Because it is. It's a big, big, big, big, big, big f'ing deal.
Sad Chicken
Today we had a break at school, so I got General Tso's from a take-out place off campus. My dad loved General Tso's, and it was so sad that I couldn't bring the leftovers home to him.
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