Today: An Ode to a grieving daughter.

This is my journal entry from 04/21/2020.

 That was the two-year anniversary of my father’s death. 

 This is what I wrote to get me through the day. 

 If you can relate to any of this…. I’m sending peace and light your way. 

 It’s been 2 years and my heart is still breaking. 

 Most of the time I’m fine. I’m sad but fine but today...... I am just doing what I can. 

 I haven’t talked to God in a while. I’m angry and I need space. I honestly don’t care about grace and love and mercy today. 

 My dad is gone, and focusing on how I’m going to keep breathing in and out is all I care about. 

 I am grateful. 

 I know he’s in a better place and the usual spiel that gets me through most days, but today fuck the spiel. 

 I’m pissed. I’m pissed that the whole state of Florida is filled with people that deserve to be lynched because they’d rather risk everyone’s lives during a pandemic by going to the freaking beach than sitting at home with their miserable life and literally the best person I’ve ever know is dead and even when he was here he was in pain. 

 I’m pissed he never got to see me get my degree or he’ll never see me fall in love or walk down the aisle or accomplish all my goals. 

 I’m pissed he never saw Mandu and I become friends again. He’d be so happy. 

 I’m pissed he’s not here to see Dominic or my mom. He’d be proud of them. Or me. I think he’d be proud of me too. 

 I just want him here. It’s been 2 years and I still feel the pain. My heart ripping from my chest like when my mom came down from the ambulance and threw her hands up. “He’s gone.” 

 I remember screaming. I’m still screaming. I never stopped screaming. 

 Today I am just existing. Today I am going through the motions and doing what I need to do to survive this. Today I do not have the capability to take care of anything or anyone else. Today I’m doing the bare minimum. 

 Today I’m not praying for strength or focus or grace. Today I’m not praying at all. Today I’m just breathing in and out.