Grief is an odd thing.
On one hand, it is an incredibly personal experience, and each person deals with it in their own way. It's unique to each situation, and the way we experience it can change day to day. On the other hand it's something to be expected. While each person may be dealing with it differently, there are life experiences where people expect to grieve. The loss of a parent is one of these experiences.
For those of you who do not know, or are not close to my family, my dad, Garrett Smith was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer in May of this year. At that time, the doctors gave him six months to a year to live. He chose to forgo any kind of formal treatment, other than pain management, to help his quality of life.
After receiving the phone call that he was sick, and going to die, I was rather surprised at the way it affected me. I was overcome with a tidal wave of emotions. I struggled with the fact that there would be no reconciliation after this year. For the past 23 years of my life, I have not been close with him, and have done my part to keep my distance. There were feelings, thoughts, emotions, and dramas in that relationship that have colored the way I view him, and really everything surrounding him. But the picture in my head of us eventually making up, and finding that relationship every one talked about, was shattered.
At that point in time, Kyle and I decided together, to forget the past and focus on the time we had left. There was a man in Seattle who I knew virtually nothing about, but who had given me half of who I am. It was time to try and fix whatever I could.
While I cannot say the relationship is where I imagined it would be, I feel like it's in a better place than it was 6 months ago. I've said my piece, and feel like I've changed dramatically as a person. My thoughts and attitudes towards Garrett have improved. I'm no longer bitter about the relationship we never had, however, I am saddened by the relationship we will be unable to have.
As I've made my way through this grieving process, I've experienced a multitude of emotions. I've been angry, heartbroken, embarrassed, hopeful, depressed, and numb. I've felt multiple emotions at once, and none at all, within the same day.
Grieving a parent or loved one who has a terminal illness is a slow and painful experience. It doesn't go away, and it seems to get better, only for it to get worse. I've had days where all I say to Kyle is, "I'm fine." and other days when I cry standing in front of the produce aisle at the grocery store. There are days when I want every update I can get my hands on, and other days when I don't want to know anything, and just ignore the whole thing.
Most of the time, I'm uncomfortable, and trying to figure my way through all of this, and because it's such a weird experience, I don't talk about it. Yes, there are times I will share, but usually my day to day emotions are just mine (and shared with Kyle.) I have found, however, that writing my way through this, or at least some of it has helped untangle the mess.
As part of my grieving process, I've been making a list. This list is composed of things that I'll remember, as well as things I feel I've gotten from Garrett, despite our lacking relationship. Somehow I think things are passed along genetically, and I would like to share a few of those with you today.
1. My love of a good cup of coffee
A few weeks after we found out he was sick, Kyle and I made our way up to see him and Cyndi for the day. We spent the day chatting, and catching up, and while we were there, learned that Garrett has a unique fascination with the art of brewing coffee. He has every contraption you could possibly think of for grinding, brewing, and serving coffee. He gave us tips on making the best pot, and has forever changed me from typical coffee pots to french press coffee. It really does brew a superior cup, if done correctly.
2. My love of a good play on words
While I don't have many memories with him, one thing I remember distinctly is Garrett sitting in his truck, repeating, and chuckling over a good pun, or a well-crafted joke. I remember one time we were talking about the beauty of words, and he introduced me to the word "Winsome." It's a beautiful sounding word, with a matching definition. It's been a word I've looked to use, but have never quite found the right occasion, though it has stuck with me since.
3. My inability to finish every project I start
While I'm sure it irritated Cyndi to no end, I remember Garrett having a torn apart, half-built tractor in the driveway for YEARS. As I've grown older, I've come to realize that I have that same gusto for starting projects, but get distracted with other things before I have a chance to finish. Just ask Kyle, we have about 4 DIY projects sitting on our front porch, just waiting for me to go back and pick them up again.
4. My artistic sensibilities
Going hand in hand with the half finished projects, Garrett and I share a love for hand crafted goods and creative works. While we often focus them in different ways, I feel we both have a tendency to lean towards the artistic and creative side of things. I remember he was always working on some project, and it saddens me a great deal to know that he is in a space now where he cannot work on those projects, or artistic endeavors.
5. My sense of humor
We have a very similar sense of humor, and I'm pleased to say Kyle has a little bit of it too. As a teenager I remember he'd make a joke, and as angst-y as I was, I would try to muffle a laugh. He's got a way with jokes, and is quick on his feet.
6. My height
While I haven't always appreciated it, I know that it was always impressive for me to be able to say "my dad is 6'9"." I still get a kick out of the look on people's faces when they imagine just how tall that really is.
7. My affinity for good (foreign) food.
I do need to give credit to both parents for this one, but Garrett was the first person to introduce me to Thai, Vietnamese, and Indian food. I remember him taking me to the pink and teal Vietnamese place in Bremerton, and ordering spring rolls and coconut juice. Also, Bubble tea. Before it was the cool thing to drink he was ordering me a mango tea, and him a durian fruit bubble tea. (Said it tasted like floor wax.) I remember him telling me stories about how he used to eat avocado in Brazil with sugar on it. (Still haven't tried that one.)
To go along with this one, I remember one Tuesday night we drove around and got ice cream cones from every McDonald's in town, to see which one had the best large cones.
While this is definitely not a complete list, it has many of the things I've thought about in the past few months. I know as the days pass, his illness is growing, and there aren't many days left. He's a good man, and has done a lot of good in this world. It's hard to watch him fade, and harder to know that he won't be around much longer. I know the grieving process has only started , and that it will get so much worse before it gets better again. But it's also sort of comforting to know that in some small way, be it a large ice cream cone from McDonald's, or a fresh cup of coffee, he won't really be gone.
I think it's important to remember that the people we love can still be a part of our lives if we remember to remember.
