The 411

So I need to say that I'm still really happy.  I mean, despite my last post, I'm grateful for where I am right now--where my family is.  I feel like where Jeff and I are at is what I saw when I imagined us "making it".  Never not having obligations or occasional worries, but being at a place where we can breathe and not have to worry every second.  Being at this point took a while, and it wasn't easy to get here.  But we are, and I wake up realizing how much our little family has, and being so overwhelmed with happiness.  I just wish my dad could have seen where we are now.  Because I know he would have been excited for us.

I've still been having pretty rotten dreams.  Really vivid and disturbing and keeping me from sleeping juuuust enough to make my naturally dark circles under my eyes unnaturally dark and obvious.  Even with makeup.  So yeah, it could be worse, I know.  But all joking aside?  My heart still hurts.  And my heart hurts for my siblings.  And my Stepmom.  
Last year at this time I was what my dad would call "babysitting" him.  Sometimes Teresa would need to go to work-she'd take as much time off as she could-but sometimes she HAD to be there.  So, I'd take advantage of Jeff's work-at-home schedule and go over and just hang out with Dad.  Most of the time he was cognizant, but he was having more and more trouble with eating or drinking anything.  And he needed someone there, just to make sure he didn't choke on something.  He'd get really scared about that.  And I remember thinking about how uncomfortable that was, for me.  How seeing him like that was scary and wrong and despite all the other times I'd see him display scary and wrong behavior, that was the worst.  It was pretty selfish of me.  But I know he appreciated me being there, and I appreciated the time I had with him, even though he was so embarrassed about me seeing what I saw.  I wish I would have known how sick he was at that point, because he had still been keeping a lot of what he was feeling from me.  And Teresa had thought that he'd shared a lot more than he did.  It was very soon after that everything just sort of came all at once.
I have so many vivid memories of my dad.  And as I type some of them out, I get teary-eyed, because my life turned out how he said it would.  I was a melancholy kid...surprise, right?  And that was hard for him to see.  But he had patience with me.  I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but I remember lying on my bed, wondering why life hated me, and he'd knock and come sit by me.  He'd ask me what it was, and I didn't even know where to begin.  Why was I so unhappy?  Why did I feel so disconnected?  When would it end?  
I guess only now do I understand why he'd look so heartbroken while I lay there.  At the time, I wondered why he looked sad, when I was the one that was in anguish.  And yeah, I realize that's a strong word to be using, but, remember what high school was like?  Like, when you were having a bad day it was nothing less than wretched.  Everything was at least 50% more...just more.  I think about the possibility of me in that situation with one of my kids.  My heart would just ache for them.      I remember he'd tell me that one day he knew I'd find someone that would see how great I was, (that he thought I was), and that all the unhappiness I was having at that time would seem far away. My main comfort was when he'd tell me, "This too, shall pass".  Then he'd say that nothing lasts forever and we have to try to appreciate all that we have.  At the time, that last part didn't sound nearly as helpful.  
Dad honestly tried to understand me.  As confusing and futile as it was, he tried.  And I will always love him for that.  
This past weekend was kind of nice.  I got a lot more caught up on sleep than I've been in a long time.  And things seem to be looking up.  The problem with me and not enough sleep is not only the lack of sleep, but also the fact that things just seem more dreary.  And I feel weepy and mopey.  But I'm not so deprived anymore, and now I feel a bit more refreshed and grounded.
This brings me to my family.  Moriah commented on my last post that maybe this missing my father and seeing Teresa being lonely would make me appreciate Jeff more.  And honestly, it does.  I've had a couple dreams in which Jeff isn't my husband.  Or he's gone.  Or I never knew him.  And I wake up so grateful that it was just a dream.  Or nightmare, I guess.  I do know I couldn't be without him, and I take a few minutes to say a quick prayer that I won't ever have to be.  
The same with my daughters and my son.  I've just gotten way too attached to them, you know?  Call me sentimental.  
Despite all this month reminds me of, I am taking something that Dad said to heart.  Nothing lasts forever.  This too, shall pass.  I need to be grateful for all that I've been blessed with...and I've really been blessed with a lot.  Have a good week, everyone.  And take time to tell those you love, that you love them.  Because it's never a bad thing to hear.