Anger

I have felt so angry since we got home.  I want the whole family to feel the pain I'm feeling and yet they don't.  They can't.  I know that in my head but my heart doesn't listen.  I'm angry because they go on living their lives, and going about their business.  I want them to feel what I do.  I want them to feel the loss the way I do.  I want everything to STOP for them too.

I'm angry because my dad could have been divorced before he died.  Something about the wording made him decide not to sign.  So now the woman who no longer wanted to be his wife is handling his business.  This woman has made me feel left out my whole life.  Now she's taking care of my dad's estate.  (Something he would be very unhappy about.)  I wonder if she will play nice and include me or if once again she'll treat me as the outsider.  My siblings say they will make sure it happens but they don't speak their mind when she is in the room.  It remains to be seen.

I'm angry because we had been making plans.  We were hoping to move to Tulsa.  It would have been an easy stop on his way from his home to his farm.  I was gonna have him over for Thanksgiving and Christmas when we got there.  We were going to be close enough to go to his farm and he was going to teach my boy to drive a tractor.  He was going to retire to the farm.  The place that made him the happiest.  I was going to be close enough to help care for him.  Not anymore. 

I'm angry because I will no longer get to talk to him on the phone.  Seeing his number come up on caller id would put an instant smile on his face.  In an instant I was daddy's little girl.  Since his hospitalization we talked daily.  I want so much to call him and tell him that we are getting closer to our Tulsa goal.  I can't.  I can't bear to take his number out of my phone, address book or calendar.  It would be like he didn't ever exist. 

I'm angry because at his funeral there wasn't enough room to hold all the people.  People were filling the sanctuary, the basement, the stairs and spilling outside.  It was touching, but where were all these people when he was laying in the hospital?  Why didn't they visit? 

I'm angry because I had planned to care for him when he got out.  I didn't go earlier because we couldn't afford for me to make two trips out.  Instead all four of us went out to watch him die.

I feel like a fraud.  People tell me how sweet and nice I am.  How much "grace" I exhibit when dealing with our family "situation".  I'm not nice.  I'm seething.  I want to scream at people and let them know how I feel.  If they only knew.