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You Can Let Go Now, Daddy…

You can let go now, Daddy
You can let go…
Oh, I think I’m ready to do this on my own…
It’s still a little bit scary
But I want you to know
I’ll be ok now Daddy…
You can let go.


I’ve tried not to leave the computer room more often than I’ve had to today.  I know that’s a weird statement to make… but trust me, in my head, it makes sense.

You see, when I leave the computer room, I eventually have to come back… and when I come back, my father’s urn is right there in plain view.  The computer room seemed to be an appropriate place to keep him… I’m in here a lot so he’s always close by… and he was very computer savvy.  He’s the reason that I have the very limited knowledge of programming that I do (and the inspiration to pursue a bit of the knowledge that I gained from Sir Zak).  But yeah… leaving the room means I’m faced with his urn… and I just… can’t look at it today.

The last time I got up to leave the computer room, I made an unnecessary run to Dollar General… I was avoiding looking at it that desperately.

I just didn’t know how much I’d miss him, I guess.  I mean, he was predominantly absent for the important parts of my life that have passed… He didn’t go to a lot of performances or anything when I was in high school… and I was involved in A LOT, so there were several opportunities.  I was in Robotics… Choir… Band… Theatre… Spellbowl (written spelling bee)… Academic Decathalon.  He came to a couple marching band contests, one of which because it was in the RCA Dome (the only time my high school went to state competition in my 5 years in the band… I started in 8th grade, cause we needed the numbers)… and I think he might’ve come to my senior solo for Choir.  He was at my graduation.  He didn’t come to my graduation party… but he came the day before, or a couple hours before it started or something… enough to see me, congratulate me again, give me his card, and leave.  I guess he didn’t want to be around my friends… or my mom… or any of their friends.

He never called on holidays or on my birthday.  And every year he said the same thing, “I didn’t know what you had planned.”  Because my day would be that busy that I couldn’t take 5 minutes to talk to my father?

And every time we talked, he would have a running count of how long it had been since the last time… and he would always end the conversation, “Let’s not let it be another 3/5/9/13/18 months before we talk again this time, ok?”  And every time, he’d never take the initiative and make the call.  My cell phone number never changed.  I’d given it to him several times.  Nothing.


Even when he died… nothing.  He’d apparently been in the hospital for a week before he died, and they didn’t call me until the day after he passed.  It took them that long to find my phone number.  They had to get it through His best friend’s, friend’s, daughter, who happened to be the Lead in the house I was working in at the time when I was a Home Health Aide.  If that happenstance hadn’t happened, who knew when I’d have found out.

He’d listed his physical therapist as his emergency contact.

I know I’ve told this story to some of you before… but I guess I just really need to get it out right now.

I think what hurts the most… is when we were cleaning his stuff out from his best friend’s house, with whom he was living at the time, the friend (Leroy) told me, “You know, I knew he was getting bad here towards the end… he couldn’t even get up from the couch and go into the kitchen to get water to take his pills without sounding like he’d run a marathon…”  The kitchen was maybe 25-30 steps from the couch.  Dad had emphysema real bad.  (And potentially lung cancer.  They found lumps in his lungs, but since I denied an autopsy, they didn’t look closer.)  Leroy went on to tell me, “I asked him for important numbers… his sister, friends, anything… and he told me he didn’t have any… I asked specifically, ‘What about Danielle?’ [my RL name] and he said ‘She wouldn’t give a shit.'”

Excuse me?  I wouldn’t give a shit?  Me?  The one who’d been the only one to make an effort in our relationship for the last 14 years?  I wouldn’t give a shit about my own father being sick enough to be dying?!  He NEVER told me he was that bad… and I asked every time… He always say, “About the same… it sucks.”  But he never told me he’d had lungs collapse before… and that he’d had stints put in his heart… he never told me any of this.   AND I ASKED.  I was the one that asked.  I was the one that always reached out.

“She wouldn’t give a shit.”

That still haunts me… to this day… that he thought I wouldn’t care.  I very much care.

So on this father’s day… I mourn my father… sure, I cried a lot when he died… I cried a lot in the 3 months that I had a nervous breakdown and just lost touch with everything after he died, before I moved to Alabama to be closer to the rest of my family.  And I’ve cried a lot since moving here.  But today, I cry more, I cry harder… I just… mourn.

I hate this.  I really hate this.

I never thought I’d look forward to a Monday so bad in my life…

But I guess it’s time to try and take the rest of this journey on my own, without him.


*~* You Can Let Go Now, Daddy… *~*

Shape: MINE
Skin: Sigrid (January; Ginger Brows; Cleavage) – Glance Skins
Eyes: Promise Eyes (Apex) – IKON
Hair: Longfall Hair (Naturals) – Tableau Vivant  @ Arcade Gacha
Hands: Avatar Enhancement Hands (Elegant) – Slink
Nailcolor Applier (hands): Dark Set – Nailed It
Teeth: Open Mouth Pro – PXL Creations  (USING PIERCING EXPANSION)
Dress/Tunic: Wayfarer Tunic – Poet’s Heart  @ Fashion For Life
Leggings/Boots: Wayfarer Leggings & Boots (Autumn Foliage) – Poet’s Heart  @ Fashion For Life
Headpiece & Staff: Wayfarer Headpiece & Staff – Poet’s Heart  @ Fashion For Life
Facepaint: Deardriu Facepaint (White; Dark) – Haus of Darcy  @ We ❤ RP

Poses: Various animations from the new RACHEL AO – Vista Animations

Location: Fashion For Life Parade Sim

Blogging Tune: “You Can Let Go” – Crystal Shawanda

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