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I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Realistic Anger

I learned about the stages of grief in college, methodically memorizing each in preparation for an exam but giving none of them much thought. It wasn't until I experienced a profound loss, my first being the death of my grandfather, that I realized that my memorization of the stages did not do justice to the emotional roller coaster experienced by the grieving. The recent death of my father has thrust me back into those tried and true stages of grief, only I seem to be stuck in anger.

Yesterday I found myself absolutely furious with my Dad. I was angry that he failed to take better care of his health and avoided physicals out of fear that they would find something wrong. Despite our pleading for him to seek preventative care, he only went to the doctor after the cancer had cast its death sentence. I realize that it is of little consequence, but I can't help but contemplate the "what if" scenarios. 

I was also upset with my Dad for very personal (some might call selfish) reasons. He dedicated the last weeks of his life to preparing his loved ones for his death. He lovingly recorded video messages for his wife, sister, his grandchildren, close friends and colleagues. I was the one behind the camera, charged with recording each message with the promise to send them to the recipient after he died. He put so much thought and love into each video that I know that they will be cherished by all who receive one.

Unfortunately, I will not be a recipient of one of his thoughtful, caring gestures nor will my brother or sister. My Dad did not record a video, write a letter or bequeath a family heirloom to me after his death. He spent his final days securing his legacy for everybody else and completely forgot about his children. I would be lying if I didn't admit that the slight hurts.

I feel petty complaining, but since this is my blog I feel safe expressing my feelings. I expected him to leave everything to his wife. My complaint isn't about his things or about money. My pain is resonating from the feeling that I have been cast aside and overlooked, which, if I were to be completely honest, was common in our relationship.

My Dad was extremely passionate about his friendships, his wife, and his work. Unfortunately he wasn't able to maintain that type of investment with his own children. I learned to accept his priorities and, while I knew that he loved me, I eventually learned to not expect an outpouring of love or support.  (I learned after he passed away that he was proud of me. While I take solace in that knowledge, it would have meant more had I heard it from him during his life.)

I wish I knew the logic behind his leaving thoughtful mementos for so many people while leaving nothing for his own children.  I know that it wasn't meant to cause pain, but was probably more just the result of another oversight.  Unfortunately I'll never be able to ask him to find out, and that makes me angry as well!

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