It’s finally been said.  I knew it would be one day.  I wasn’t expecting it till the teenage years really, but it makes sense it’d be now.  I think it’s something every parent will hear when the other parent is dead.  Those words that cut deeper than any other phrase. 

They don’t know what they’re saying.  Well, at least they don’t know the depth of it. “I wish you were dead instead of dad.” Then some variation to follow it up like; he was nicer than you, he would do better than you etc. And he said it with a look on his face of disdain that hurts even more. 

So that’s what I heard last week.  I remembered luckily, that another widow warned me this would come.  I appreciate that she told me to expect it.  That helped.  He really doesn’t know what it means to say that, other than he’s trying to be mean because he’s hurting. 

Hurt people, hurt people.  This I know.  This is how I know who I can and can’t have close in my life.  Now that I hurt more, I have less tolerance to be hurt by others.  So it’s not that I want to be mean either, I just hurt.  If your leg is broken, you can’t really afford someone to trip you, even by accident.

When he said that, I didn’t take it personal, well maybe a little, for a minute.  When the thoughts flash through my mind like, well, he’s the one not here. If he were here, he’d be doing far worse than I am. Or I think, he’d be the same way if he had to deal with all of this.  He’s been gone now for so long.

You don’t even know what he’d do, and you’re just aggrandizing him in your mind as perfect because he’s gone.  That’s so not fair to me when I’m the one here, doing it all and subject to the ups and downs of this life. The tiredness, the hunger, the overwhelmedness, all the things I handle alone.  

 I can’t show up perfect, because I’m real.  He can seem perfect because he’s gone.  Yet, I know, it’s not me.  It’s the circumstance and it sucks.  Still does.  I’m sorry your dad died.  I’m sorry I’m the one here doing it so imperfectly on my own.  I’m sorry I can’t find you a stepdad when you keep asking.

 I’m sorry that I can’t be everything for you.  I’m sorry that I get tired, and angry and lonely myself.  I’m just sorry for all of it.  Sometimes I wish I were the one who was dead too, but ya know what?  It’d be just as hard.  I’m not going to give up, not on you, not on myself.  We’ll get through this buddy, and I’m sorry.