I Have Lost People I Love From Cancer
My father’s cremated remains have been sitting in my office for over half a year, and I haven’t been able to properly mourn by spreading them where he wished. I haven’t saved up enough money to fly to Texas, and fear that I won’t be able to until next year.
Not many people talk about my father, and it feels like they have just moved on. He did try to warn me that they would be this way. He may have been an alcoholic until the end, and some drugs in his younger years, but he wasn’t a bad person.
Addiction is a monster that makes people lose control. That monster is what took him through liver cancer. That monster is also the reason my mother left him, and I never had a father growing up. But I never hated him. I was upset, and wondered why he wouldn’t put down the bottle. Why he chose alcohol over family.
The monster had a hold on him. He only saw the monster. He embraced it through his hippie beliefs. Now, I have no hatred for hippies either. I think they’re great. My father just lived the hippie life style to the max, and didn’t care what anyone else thought about him or his choices. As far as he was concerned, he was an adult and they just didn’t accept him for who he was.
The alcohol was like a part of him, and he enjoyed it. He just didn’t think about all the possible outcomes. He told me in his last days that he always imagined what it would be like to be dying, but he didn’t think it would slowly creep up on him. He always thought it would be sudden, and take him without giving him a chance to act.
Not many people talk about my father, and it feels like they have just moved on. He did try to warn me that they would be this way. He may have been an alcoholic until the end, and some drugs in his younger years, but he wasn’t a bad person.
Addiction is a monster that makes people lose control. That monster is what took him through liver cancer. That monster is also the reason my mother left him, and I never had a father growing up. But I never hated him. I was upset, and wondered why he wouldn’t put down the bottle. Why he chose alcohol over family.
The monster had a hold on him. He only saw the monster. He embraced it through his hippie beliefs. Now, I have no hatred for hippies either. I think they’re great. My father just lived the hippie life style to the max, and didn’t care what anyone else thought about him or his choices. As far as he was concerned, he was an adult and they just didn’t accept him for who he was.
The alcohol was like a part of him, and he enjoyed it. He just didn’t think about all the possible outcomes. He told me in his last days that he always imagined what it would be like to be dying, but he didn’t think it would slowly creep up on him. He always thought it would be sudden, and take him without giving him a chance to act.
41-45, F
