It was the wee hours of January 4th, the phone rang I looked at the number on caller id and I knew it was my parents, the voice cracking and breaking up on the other end was my mom, the words "dad died" "what I said" (even thought I heard her the first time) "Dad has died, he died in his sleep" I froze I did not cry I did not have a reaction. I guess that is what they call shock, as I tried to calm my mom on the other end of the phone, I asked did you call Michael, "No I did not" "you call him, " she begged so I made that call that no one ever wants to have to make, "My brother only lives a mile or so from my parents and I knew he could be there faster than I and within minutes he was there.
I recall sitting on the side of my bed not having any emotion and just kept saying why cant I cry why why, well shock was in full force.
I dreaded waking the girls to tell them and yet maybe Lauren would be too young to understand (even though I knew that my 4 year old was way smarter than that) Amber cried and I held her and I wish I could had given her reasons and or an explanation but I had none, NOTHING NOT ONE REASON. I could then tell that my heart was broken and I think I felt a piece break apart, hmm maybe my dad stopped and picked it up as he flew above the clouds to his new life, I really do not know.
The I wish, and the whys started to engulf my mouth every time I opened it. I hated to go to the house, I envisioned the night my brother was killed at 19 years old and I remember my dad getting me at the wee morning hours at my friends house to bring me home, the house was somber and sad, I did not want to witness that emptiness again but I knew I would, my parents home is suppose to be a place of laughter and fun not grief, and sadness. It SUCKED it SUCKED so bad having to open the door to a house that I would no longer see my dad at, a house that would no longer smell of his cooking, the house that would no longer hinder his loud voice and laughter, a house that I would never see my dad in EVER AGAIN!
I can say I lost a piece of my heart that night, a piece that was his. I ask myself will I ever get it back, will my heart ever heal, NO my broken heart will never heal, maybe its kinda like an open wound you know the one that takes forever to heal and just as it heals you bump it and it opens back up, Because ya know just when I think wow I'm having a good day, a tear falls from my eye and the wound opens back up. . . . .I lost a piece of my heart.