There is no such thing as waterproof mascara. Seriously. Anyone who tells you there is…they are lying. I don’t care if you purchase your mascara at the drug store or over the counter in a fancy department store, there is NO SUCH THING. I know this because since my Dad died I cry a lot. I’ve tried them all and I’ve come to accept that raccoon eyes are in.
My grief is making me crazy. I’m not kidding; normal things that are totally innocent make me snap at people. Rewind to this morning. My boyfriend and I were talking, smiling behaving like a normal happy couple. Then he smiles and mentions “Oceanfest.” What’s Oceanfest? Oceanfest is the biggest Fourth of July celebration at the Jersey Shore. We have food galore, crafts, games and a spectacular fireworks display at the end of the day. Nothing bad there, right? Well I snapped at him. I declared my distaste for this day filled of fun. People eating fried oreos, zeppoles and all that other goodness? People having fun? Nope, there will be none of that for me. I grabbed my soap box and went bat shit crazy on him, ending my rant with how I’m eating healthy…forever. Fortunately I’m with the most patient man in the world and he smiled, kissed me goodbye and left for work. Poor guy, he only wanted a fried oreo.
And then the waterworks started. Please remember I was almost out the door for work, so I looked somewhat presentable. Within minutes I had mascara running down my face, I was a disaster. All over Oceanfest? Oceanfest is supposed to be fun! It’s entertainment for EVERYONE!
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. This incredible day represented everything that was taken from my father before his death. My Father died after a gruesome battle with Stage IV base of the tongue cancer. He spent the last four years unable to eat a morsel of food or drink an ounce of liquid. I couldn’t even give him a lousy sip of water on his death bed. For me this celebration represented what was taken from my Dad and my family.
Sometimes during my grief journey my anger takes over and clouds my judgment. It comes on strong like a hurricane and the rage is overwhelming. For that moment fried oreos, zeppole, ice cream, anything that was being served at Oceanfest was in the line of fire with my poor boyfriend right in that bullseye.
I sound so logical right?
Well my Dad is a funny guy because he is the one who told me that during my car ride to work this morning.
Once again, from the afterlife my Dad is communicating with me.
And here’s how……
I scrambled to my car, put my Pandora radio on and began my 45 minute ride to work.
As I was driving I was talking out loud to my Dad, telling him, “It’s not fair, why did God let you die unable to eat?”
At that very moment Don McLean’s “American Pie” came on the radio. I pressed the forward button because I don’t even like that song and it played again. I now punched the thumbs down button with my index finger and heard, “Bye, bye Miss American Pie” In an instant, my attention was completely drawn to my Pandora radio and this song that I never really liked (Sorry Don McLean). Normally with Pandora you press thumbs down, the nice people at Pandora apologize for playing it and you NEVER ever hear that song again. Well now that song played consecutively. I was just yelling to my dead dad how it was unfair he died unable to eat, cursing out Oceanfest and “American Pie” was playing???
Okay! I hear you Dad, but it’s still not fair!
And then my cries turned into sobs, gut wrenching sobs.
But wait, my Dad wasn’t done, when “American Pie” finished playing The Rolling Stones “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” came on.
My Dad is a funny guy in the afterlife. He’s constantly sending me messages, normally in the form of feathers, sometimes music and other stuff. My sobs turned into laughs and for that moment I felt my father’s loving presence in the car with me.
This grief journey sucks, I miss my Dad more and more each day. But, I also consider myself blessed to be able to share these moments. Blessed to have such a supportive group of loved ones by my side. Blessed and thankful that even now my Dad is communicating with me.