(I originally wrote this on Tuesday 25th, 2018)
A year ago, Elliana let her Monarch butterfly go free at school. She cared for her butterfly and watched it evolve from a small caterpillar to beautiful butterfly. It no longer belonged in a small glass home. It was ready to spread its wings and fly free.
As she was letting her butterfly go I was making the hardest decision in my life, to let my dad go. He no longer belonged in a hospital bed. He deserved to earn his wings and be free.
I walked into my dad’s room and said words that I never thought I would have the courage to say… “Dad, I know how much you hate being hooked up to all of these machines. I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be hooked up to them forever. I know what your wishes were before you came into the hospital. In a little while, the nurse and doctor are going to come in and start to get you off all of these machines. Dad, you have the choice. You can fight as hard as you want to stay with us. You can fight for weeks, days, hours or minutes and if you don’t want to fight anymore, that’s ok too. It’s your choice. You raised me to be strong like you. Elliana and I will be ok. It’s ok if you’re tired and don’t want to fight anymore.”
I will always have the image of his face while I spoke those words to him. My dad and I had a unique and strong connection. Most of my life I could tell what he was thinking without saying a word, today was different. I had no idea what that look meant and it still haunts me today. Was he scared? Was he mad? Was he confused? Was he relieved? I will never know. From friends and family to doctors, have told me it was what he wanted, he would never have the quality of life, he wouldn’t want to live like that. My dad was the strongest son of a bitch I ever met but even under the rough exterior, he was human. He was a man, a grandpa, and a dad. A dad listening to his only child say that she would be ok without him. But at the same time, seeing in his little girls’ eyes that she was scared that the one man she always relied on and loved the most was leaving her. While my head knows that letting him go was absolutely the right thing to do, my heart and soul have been conflicted since that day, a year ago today.
People say that firsts are the hardest after a loved one has passed. Yes, that is true. By the age of 28, I had already experienced the loss of two boyfriends, along with aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends. I thought I understood grief. I was terribly wrong. I want to say that I know others have it much much worse. I cannot begin to imagine losing a spouse or more tragically, a child. I cannot imagine how hard that is. What I can imagine is when you live in the home you shared with someone, where everywhere you look is a memory of that person, the anniversary of their death doesn’t feel a whole lot different. What is hard, is missing the dirty fingerprints he left all over the stainless steel. What is different is not finding a mess of dental floss, a beer can, and his vape pen sitting by his recliner in the morning. I miss walking past his bedroom door to find him passed out with the glow of the tablet on his face because again he fell asleep reading.
While living in a house of memories is difficult, weirdly enough it is the place that I find the most comfort. Having comfort knowing that his four-legged best friend still feels him here while she sunbathes in his chair in the garage. Comfort knowing Elliana is surrounded by her grandpa’s love and the memories she shared with him will not fade away. I never want her to forget what I great man her grandpa was and how proud he was to be called her grandpa. I have comfort knowing I’m surrounded by his love and he always watching over his girls.
Elliana is frequently reminded that she is surrounded in her grandpa’s love and he is still with her by the little signs she sees, the number 22, the Cardinal in the apple tree and most importantly the sight of a Monarch butterfly. It’s not uncommon for one to land on her. The Monarch butterfly she released that day at school in some sense is a way for her find something beautiful or peaceful with the day she said her last goodbye to her grandpa.
Elliana and Josh came up to the hospital right after her butterfly was set free. I wanted her to say goodbye to my dad before it was his time to fly free. Some questioned having an 8-year-old see her grandpa like that in the hospital, saying goodbye and seeing someone so close to death. To me, I didn’t question it one bit. Elliana is one of the most resilient little girls I know. She was strong enough to rub her grandpa’s arm and try to bring him comfort with the words she spoke, that she will miss him but telling him we would be ok.
Elliana has her moments when she misses him and breaks down in tears. But, Elliana kept her promise, that we would be ok. She has been my light in the dark times. She misses him but does it with a smile on her face, not with tears in her eyes. Elliana reminds me that I’m strong and I will get through these hard times. She notices and points out the small signs and reminds me that my dad is still here and always will be. My dad will continue to watch over us and watch us evolve into everything he imagined we could be.
And as I finish this sad but therapeutic writing, I chuckled to myself. My dad is irritated I sat here and cried about him and something I can’t change when I should have been studying for a test. Goodnight Dad, I’ll study tomorrow.
My mom is usually the DD of the group, so she doesn’t drink very often. Saturday, however she changed it up. She not only was drinking but she thought instead of her usual Malibu Rum she would switch it up for Korbel Brandy.
“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, you may miss out on a good story”. Well, this is my cover… You must explore my tattered pages to discover my beautiful mess, in this journey called life.
Lindsey Tierney 