He's Gone

I got home from lunch this afternoon at around 4pm. My grandma immediately told me to go to my mom upstairs and that something had happened to dad. I run up to see what's wrong. She tells me that dad had a heart attack at his office and the paramedics were there with a defibrulator.

That didn't sound good. But I figured my dad's a trooper and he would be ok. Mom and I found out where he was being taken and hopped in the car so that we could be there for him.

My mom and I got to the hospital only to be greeted outside of the ER by one of his colleagues. The way he took my mom's arm was all too telling. Her tears were even more telling. My daddy was gone.

I didn't even get to say "hi" to him this morning.

We stood out there for about 10 minutes trying to process what happened. I called my little sister. She was hysterical. I called my auntie. She wasn't too much better. All everyone could say was "NO! NO!" and I believed them. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening.
Not to my dad at least. He's like Superman. Impervious to all of this ish.

They called us into the hospital to sit in a room so the doctor could talk to us. He came in and told us things about "cardiac arrest" and "they did all they could" and "we did all we could" and "he didn't make it." They asked if we wanted to see him.

I lost it. But I knew that I would never forgive myself if I didn't take the opportunity to see him today. I had to. And if not for me, for my mother.

When I finally got enough nerve about myself to actually go in there and see him, I followed my mom into the room down the hall. There he was, on the bed with a respirator in his mouth. His eyes were still partially open.

My mom went to close them and kissed him on the forehead. I, on the other hand, defied reality and tried to wake him up.

"Wake up, daddy. Please. Don't do this. You can't do this. Please, wake up."

He wouldn't.

I shook him. I pleaded with him. I yelled at him to do this ONE THING for me.

But he didn't. He just lay there. Lifeless. My dad was dead. I closed his eyes myself, told him "I love you" for the last time in his ear and left the hospital.

I never thought it would happen so soon...I figured if it did happen, it would be like this, but had I known; if I would have even suspected that today would be the day that the first sight of my father would be of him lifeless on a gurney at Centinela Hospital, I would have done things differently. Much differently.

I haven't actually seen him since Tuesday when he popped his head in my room to say hi. Perfectly normal, but now I feel like shit. I haven't seen my dad alive since Tuesday.

I should have paid more attention to Jenkins' blog a few weeks ago. I should have taken that time to really reflect and appreciate the people I have around me. But I didn't. I've breezed in and out of the house, barely saying a word to anyone, let alone the first man in my life.
So to you, Daddy, now that you've crossed the threshold into another plane of existence (hopefully), I want to extend my apologies:

I'm sorry for yelling at you last week when we got into that big fight.

I'm sorry for not telling you how my day was last night because I was too lazy to come out of my room and actually see you.

I'm sorry for not showing you my FIDM report card because I thought it was a stupid thing to ask to see.

I'm sorry for not watching Jeopardy with you.

I'm sorry I didn't get up to say goodbye to you this morning.

I'm sorry that you didn't get to walk me down the aisle last weekend. I know how much that meant to you, so I'm sorry that me and Nathan didn't work out.

I'm sorry for worrying you on those nights I decided I didn't feel like coming home.

I'm sorry that you didn't get to see me become the woman that I am meant to become.

I'm sorry for not telling you "I love you" and for assuming that you already knew.

I'm sorry for complaining nearly everytime you asked me to do something.

This list could go on forever, but I know it won't do any good now. I just wish it would. I really wish it would.

DADDY...Please...Come back...

I miss you. I love you. Please...come back.

Randomness...It's been a while

I can't believe my life.

Well, actually I can. It's just the people and things in my life that are...interesting.

Scene #1:
What's really standing out in my mind right now is the barber who thought it better to "fix" my unkempt eyebrows by shaving half of one off. While razzing me the whole time I was in his chair. While he had a mini straight razor in hand.

I swear I felt like Mister in the Color Purple on that porch. What can you say back to someone that has a razor near your eyes, or in your face for that matter.

But to add insult to injury, he thought he did the best job he could given the dire state of my brows. RUDE!!!!

Scene #2:
I wrote this really long, and perhaps not well thought out, blog on the myspace and for some reason, it concurrently didn't post AND erased my piece. VERY UNCOOL. I had to do some mindless, violent computer game action to calm me down. I was beyond heated.

*slow breath*

Anyway, the jist was that somebody was justifying their infidelity with "slave men were bucks/breeders" rationale and I lost it. Absolutely lost it. I swear, black people and this propensity to blame personal ills on the institution that we are 400+ years removed from is ridiculous. True, it's had an effect on some things, but please don't try and pull that out your hat when trying to justify you being unfaithful to your wife, being lazy, or not trying to do better for yourself. Kizzy and Kunte don't control your life's circumstances, you do. Duh.

*Intermission*
I need to eat. My grandma is joning on me about how skinny I am. And she weighs a healthy sub-100lbs. That ish hurts.

Scene #3:
In other, happier news I have finished my two week endeavor, but have yet to put my newly acquired skills into practice. For some reason I have this thing about transitioning from school to working is hampering my efforts, but I really need to take the STFUADI attitude and move forward.

So I tell some people about this venture of mine and I'm met with entuhsiasm on one hand and "what the hell for?" on the other. I figure I'm just going to stop telling people stuff. I hAYTE being judged. Suckas.

Scene #4
And I'm dating a white guy. Always wanted to, but I can finally say that I am/have. HA! Score one for me. Mull over any commentary with the previous paragraph in mind - please and thank you.

Scene #5:
NY Update: I'm applying for jobs back on the east coast. Nothing has happened, really, but per Uncle Russy (whose book I am really liking right now), I think I'm going to start packing.

I need boxes. Damn. Why is there always something.

About that Dad of mine...

It's funny how my dad works. To be honest, he's to blame for my bouts with indecision. Hours after I post the blog about him offering to loan me his camera, he advises me to get one after all. He then adds that he would put something on it.

Vivian, I feel you on Emotional Rollercoasters - I was a hot mess this afternoon/evening looking for something to buy. I decided on a Cybershot. Not the top of the line one, but a moderately priced version(re: the second cheapest one available). And it's still damn sexy.

I don't know what to file this under...took one step, took two back, but then I ended up passing Go anyway.

*shrug*

I'll take the "W." I already had a Cape Cod this evening, so do whatcha like. I'll be playing with my new toy.

The Art of the Re-Nig

Umm, yeah...

So apparently, Circuit City can't ship my merch by the time I need it. Thank you early Americans for making July 4th the day you want to cut up and relieve the Redcoats. Jerks.

Anyway, I had to cancel my order. I was prepared to go out to Best Buy today, but Dad convinced me of otherwise (i.e. reminded me that I have no real job), and has offered up his camera for my use - and THAT camera is sexy...damn sexy. It's a Sony T50 Cybershot. The one with the thing in front that slides down to expose the lens / power on. It has a 3" LCD screen...a 3" LCD touch screen.

*sigh*

I now have to hang my head in shame. Not only did I do what most all Spades players can't stand, I am still camera-less...sort of. It's cool to borrow something - especially something that nice - but it's different when you have something of your own.

Word.

If anyone wants to contribute to my camera fund, let me know. If anyone finds my M525, sock the person you see it with. Please and thank you.