The past and the pending

Dear God (or blog) (or someone), When I was a little girl. I waited by a window every Friday night. I've said this in a blog before but these Friday nights have impacted me to my core and I've got to be candid with you. It's been since April since I wrote and well that's when everything happened. I've been trying to process ever since and now I'm trying to process the scariest thing I have ever... my dad's inevitable death. I told you that I'm going to be candid and raw and I mean it. I mean it so much. When I waited when I was a little girl, I hoped and hoped that my dad would come home sober. He never did. And since the cancer diagnosis, the operation and the stroke, if he wants to live he has to be sober. But he wont. My dad. MY DAD searches for cigarette butts and hopes for an extra puff. My dad sneaks a taste of wine or gets away with having a beer here and there. And Friday night, I came home to my dad drunk. It shattered my insides. He wont stop. He wont stop even though he's finally got me here. He wont stop even though he has new grandbabies from my sisters. He wont stop even though he's missing most of his pancreas and had a stroke. This translates to me as a big fuck you. A very big one. It's as if I'm not worth living for or my family. His will for living is minimal. It eats at me...everyday. Does he know what he's doing? Does he know that I sob at night and feel lost? I feel like my whole life I have waited for this man to give that kind of life up for me. I wanted him to love me so much that there was no other option but to make me feel whole. And I just feel now more than ever that I can't be blind anymore. I can't keep thinking that it's all going to turn around and he's going to choose life over alcohol. I feel as though, I need to come to terms that my dad isn't going to be there to walk me down the aisle or go to Fenway with me. Every time I hear my phone ring and see it's my mum calling...I hesitate... I take a deep breath and pick up as my heart rate raises and my emotion detector is on full. I need to know within seconds how my mum's mood is..."does she sound scared, shocked, worried, sad or all of the above"...is today the day she going to tell me that my father's body has had enough. Do you know how awful of a feeling that is to feel every time your mother calls you? I'll tell you, it's indescribable. As I lie here in my bed after a long Monday, I can't help but think about watching Forest Gump with my dad over the years. I grew up with that movie and we quote it and have a laugh. But he never knew that as I grew up, I felt like Jenny, in a way. I felt absolutely helpless and I would pray..to who..I don't know but I still did it. I would pray with my whole being over and over again to escape. I want to escape this too. So God, please make me a bird so I can fly far far away from here.