I don’t know how to feel

I got an e-mail from my Aunt tonight…my father is dead. Apparently he died last year? He died of cancer, as I understand it. I’m not sure why this woman (she might be his wife? I don’t know) would wait until now to call my mother. It seems odd to me, to call almost a year later. Right?

I don’t know how to feel. A part of me wants to cry…it’s sad that someone has died in their 60’s from such a horrible disease. I hate cancer. It’s a hateful thieving bastard. It’s cruel and indiscriminate. I feel scared that I now have cancer in the list of shit I have to be worried about having in my medical history. in my son’s medical history. A medical history that, let’s face it, is already jacked as hell. I feel sad for the father I wish I had, for the connection I wish I had…for the man I wanted my father to be. I thought I might feel relief when he died. I thought I might feel better that he couldn’t randomly appear in my life ever again. That he couldn’t appear in my son’s life. That he couldn’t hurt me ever again, but the relief isn’t coming.

I want to cry because I’m not relieved. Why? Why am I not relieved? I don’t understand the place I’m in right now. I don’t understand this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’m not sad. I’m not glad. I’m shocked. I don’t understand that either. My step-father died when I was 17, the man who walked me down the aisle and filled in as grandpa to Sprog died when I was 26…this is the third “father” I have lost in my life, even though technically I considered him dead a long, long time ago. Maybe that’s it. He’s been a ghost to me for many years. Now, even the possibility of his occasional hauntings is over. It’s all finally over. That chapter of my childhood is actually gone.

I don’t know how to feel but I think crying, understood or not is going to happen, given that today is my brother’s birthday…you know the one that is in prison and that yesterday…yesterday was my father’s birthday. I guess maybe that’s why this woman called. Huh.

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