That’s the lesson our dad taught us, just by how he lived. Growing up, he’d give us life lessons in bite sized pieces and they definitely stuck. One of the main lessons was, “don’t do wrong and expect things to work out,” followed closely by “make good choices.” He’d say “college, knowledge, dollars,” and constantly stress the importance of education and the power it brings with it. Our dad truly was, still is, and will forever be a great gift. I know my siblings and I give thanks for him everyday, and I love how much the three of us really are like him in so many ways, even if we are our own people. I absolutely would not be where I am or who I am without my brother and sister, either. I’m glad our dad constantly told us to have one another’s back, because we’ve leaned heavily on one another the past four years.
Four years ago today, my siblings and I lost our dad very suddenly and unexpectedly to a heart attack. I will never forget this day as long as I live, because I was the one who called the ambulance to report he was deceased. I found him early in the morning, around 7:30 a.m., and my entire life changed in that moment. Again. I don’t know how I did it, but I kept calm. “You’re so calm,” remarked the police chief (as well as one of the detectives) who came out to the house. I told each of them I was honestly trying not to panic because I didn’t know how my brain would react. I’d already had a “surprise seizure” just two years earlier (out of nowhere), and I didn’t want to have another one triggered by stress. I knew I couldn’t panic because I had to be there for my brother and sister, and someone had to speak for our dad. That someone was me. As the oldest sister and the one who was present when/where he passed, I had to step up and get to work. My main concern that day was making sure I was handling the business of death and speaking up about/for our dad, informing our family, and then taking care of my brother and sister.
In easily one of the most difficult days of my life, I managed to hold it all together when my inside was shattering. I was so broken, but I also knew what my dad would want from me and for me. He would want me to find peace wherever I could, and keep my head up. For me, that means getting to work. I immediately went into business mode. As much as death (especially suddenly) is emotional and painful, it is also a business, and settling an estate is not easy. It’s exhausting, dark, heavy. It complicates grief because you can’t even focus on hurt when you have to get all of these things done.
I remember the coroner asked us if we’d like to see our dad before they took him to the morgue and sent his body out for an autopsy and at first I said no. My sister said yes, but then I felt like I should just be beside her when she saw him. Looking at him, he looked so peaceful, he honestly just looked like he fell asleep. That was the day I realized how much of life is about a person’s energy and essence. It’s what they do while they’re alive, that makes them who they are. Bodies are truly just shells, vessels to carry the spirit through this world. I can’t explain it, maybe some of you have experienced it, but when someone passes away, everything that made them “them,” passes away too. It was a profound lesson to learn on that gray, cool Easter day, because it impacted how I want to live while I have time left. Our father left a legacy through us, and I am so grateful for it!
I made my dad three promises, and I am three for three. I finished school like I promised him I would, and that was one of his greatest hopes because he believed so strongly in knowledge and using what you know well. Although he did not go to college, he was honestly one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. He read so much, he would quiz us on current events and life in general, but his emotional intelligence was incredible. We have definitely inherited sensitivity and the wisdom to reach others using intuition, from him and our mom. Our dad was just so mellow and cool, but if he said it, he meant it. I say something, I mean it, and I wouldn’t have promised him I would finish school if I didn’t plan on seeing it through. What made it so difficult though, is my dad is the one who was so invested in my education and health. He and I would sit and talk for hours, every week, and he never once failed to ask me about what I was learning and how I felt, forcing me to take a break if I felt too overwhelmed. That’s why, when I didn’t get into the radiology program in Fall 2015 for the Spring 2016 class, I was beyond upset. I was actually irate and strongly considered quitting school because at that point, I felt like I’d lost everything in just six months. Right after I kind of found solid ground again for the first time (post-stroke and living a “new normal” with an acquired brain injury) in three years. I was so done, y’all. Just mentally done and so, so, so angry.
Not only had I spent the past two years working toward getting into this program, but I just lost my dad six months before I found out I didn’t get in! I was already tired trying to get through school with a brain injury, my program was difficult, I really wanted in, and RADS was something my dad and I both could see me doing. I wanted to hold true to exactly what I said I’d do. I wanted to be working in neuroradiology, helping save the lives of people “like me,” and understand what actually happened to me, from a medical perspective. That was one way I’d give back since a CT scan helped save my life. But no, now my academic dream came crashing down, and I didn’t even have my dad to listen and help me sort it all out. I was truly angry. The thing is, some of my best decisions come out of me being angry. I can’t explain it, but anger really motivates me to push harder even though I’m exhausted and don’t know exactly what to do. So, I talked to some trusted friends and advisors, made my decision and changed my major within a couple of weeks. I was pissed about having to change direction, but I was determined to still graduate and do something I love. I’ve graduated, but it was not easy to graduate without my dad being there to cheer me on. He would’ve loved to celebrate me and my work, and that’s why it meant so much to me that my sister decorated the inside of my cap the way she did! I’m still determined to use my degree in a way to help those “like me,” raise awareness and advocate for those with brain injuries, stroke survivors, invisible illnesses. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to do it. Mark my words. :)
I miss my dad every single day and there’s really not a day that goes by I don’t think about him. I need him more now than I did when I was younger, because he’s the one who would sit with me and help me find some calm in the chaos. If I didn’t know what to do and was stuck making a decision, I could take it all to him, dump it out and he would somehow sort it all into neat packages, give them to me, and tell me to “make good choices.” I could really use his help right now as I wait in this limbo state, trying to figure out exactly where I want my career to go. It’s difficult with a brain injury because I still struggle in a lot of ways, and I know how much I struggled when I went back to work in 2012. School was also difficult for me with this invisible (yet very real) injury, too, and I got through by pushing myself because it’d be too easy to just quit and I want to use what happened to me for a higher purpose than just having a story to tell. I just try to think of what he would tell me and how he’d want me to have peace and truth in my decision, and that helps a little bit. Our dad was all about “be true to you,” and living in the authenticity of who you are. When you are at peace with yourself and real with yourself, then and only then, can you be real with the world around you. You have to be who you are, not who the world expects you to be. That’s a lesson I’m beyond grateful for, because the world will try its damnedest to destroy you, and it’s inevitable that life throws some curveballs in your carefully laid plans.
I’m taking my time to be quiet and listen. I’m being patient and I’m absolutely dedicated to being true to me, because that’s how I was raised. I don’t like waiting, but I don’t have to like it to get it done. My life is different now and I have to be discriminating in how and where I spend my energy, as it’s limited. I only want to give the best I’ve got and I can’t do that when I’m not being true to me, or tired from doing too much. I don’t have to, and that’s something our dad left with me. He was so set in his routine and he knew himself so well it didn’t matter what anyone else thought of him. My siblings and I are very much like him that way. We just, do what we have to do, and that’s that. It’s refreshing, honestly. It won’t be this way forever and it’s just a season. Besides, I can sense a shift in energy and I know things will be looking up for me soon.
As much as I miss him, I give thanks I ever had a father to miss. Not everyone is so fortunate to have a father who is truly invested in their lives. My siblings and I definitely had a dad who was active, involved and present, and we are better for it. I don’t say that to say we are better than anyone else, nor do we think that way. I say it to acknowledge who our dad was and how much he impacted our lives while he was here as well as the legacy he left us, that we carry on. We are all living our lives as we were raised to do, and we definitely stick together no matter where in the world we are. I really mean it when I say we’re like a braid of three different colored strands, woven together. Stronger together and different, but unified. They are two of the greatest gifts of my life! I’m really proud of us and I know our dad would be so proud of us! That’s what keeps me going.
I’m still working through my grief (it’s not a linear process nor is there a timeline) because I didn’t focus much on my feelings, since I knew I had to handle my business and finish school. Haha just typing that made me hear my dad saying, “handle your business!” This is the first year since my stroke I’m not working or in school, and I have all this time to actually work through these tough emotions. It’s not easy or pretty, but it’s real and because I’m me, I’m going to be honest! It never gets easier, I think I just learn how to manage it better as time goes by. Having some close friends who also lost their dads in their 20s, as well as therapy and a strong support system has helped. I’m very thankful for everyone who has supported my siblings and me throughout the passing of our dad! It means so much to us.
I am a very sentimental person, so pictures mean a lot to me. These pictures are some of my favorites from over the years.
He thought I was joking and told me “Man, Rob, don’t play with me!” I tried to tell him I was serious and just to wait and see, but since he had to go to work that night, he told me to leave him alone and let him rest. Haha I just said “okay dad, you’ll see,” and walked out of his room. He was so happy and surprised when they showed up! I’ll never forget it! :)
“The urn in which my father’s body now resides. Part of his spirit lives on through me and my siblings, and all of the lessons he gave us. Gone but never forgotten.”
I give thanks for them every single day and I’m grateful I’ve had them to walk through this journey together.
Life is so fragile and strange, but it is also beautiful. I have to rest in that knowledge and live with that belief everyday, regardless of what’s going on around me. I have to find it within myself to keep going, regardless of what’s happening without. I was raised very well and I choose to live like it. So much has changed, so much lost, but also so much gained. I give thanks for perspective and eyes that still see the good. Our dad gave us that ability and it’s a gift in life. For this, I will forever give thanks for the gift our my father, even though he’s gone Home.
May he continue to race in peace.
If you knew our dad, you know he loved Tupac. Right as I typed the last sentence, “you are appreciated” started playing on my phone. Haha what a sign! I’m listening, and I give thanks! KARs will always be appreciated. :)
Faith, by fire. 