this is my second.

it hasn't gotten easier.

I still have "post-traumatic grief."

Every day is still the day after.

My dad, papa passed away when i was 9. It was a Sunday morning, when my mom was trying to waking him... I was awoken by my mom's cries, got up only to see that my dad was no longer moving. I only recall bits and pieces of what happened after that. My relatives coming, ambulance, n the funeral. I always thought of it as a bad dream that when i wake ( Read more... )

The things my father said would make me a better man

Hard work and the love of friends, a woman that understands.

I hope my father knows the seeds we've sown still grow

At night I go to sleep and pray he is watching over me.

Somewhere there's a star that's shining

so bright that I can see you smile.

And all that I need is one last chance

just to hear you ( Read more... )

I watched as my Dad took his last breath on 26th September 2011. He had battled cancer right til the end, a strong, proud and brave man that never complained. He was 61. The images from the last 4 days of his life will haunt me forever. His pain and suffering has gone now but mine remains. I dont know if I will ever feel normal again.

Suck.
Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
holidays.
Eat my shit
I feel better
Thanks.

Last week marked the 17th anniversary of my father's death...
( Read more... )

When my dad died, I read somewhere that it would take roughly two years until it got better. At least for me, it was mostly true. It's been a bit over two years now and it doesn't hurt just as much anymore. Mostly, I got used to it, though there are times when I think 'gotta tell him this' or 'gotta show him that, he'd like it'. I always used to ( Read more... )

my father was murdered in a racist hate crime, what i hate is how much support the murderers get in society, i get spit on, my tires slashed my windows broken for speaking out ( Read more... )

I have crept back in The Hole. The Hole is this depressed state of mind I get into when I start to think about how many years I have left. How morbid is that? I start thinking about people I love and care about and how it would feel to lose them. This all started when I had cancer and lost my dad the same year. I wish I could control it but lately ( Read more... )

 So I'm getting sick of this crap surrounding my dad's death (Fire that he didn't set, but ended up dying in). I don't why someone would do this to him. Its such a mess. August 21st I was thrust into a world of cops, and funeral homes, and wills, and death taxes, and fucking demolition companies to tear down his house because it's a complete loss, ( Read more... )