Two years ago I said Goodbye to my Dad. Today I’m in crippling pain due to a plethora of reproductive issues that are always plaguing me, but seem to be at a pinnacle today. I feel like that’s the universe’s way of giving me an excuse to be in bed and grumpy. And also doped up, if I have anything to say about it. Nothing like dealing with emotional distress by begging your doctor for pain medication. HEALTHY!
I really thought I’d be fine today. I’ve been fine lately. But I guess I’m exhausted since I spent all night wanting to rip my ovaries out with a spatula…so waking up on the anniversary of the death of my Dad and suddenly? I’m not fine. Will I feel better once the pain is dealt with and I can sleep? Yes. Most definitely. Will I still be sad because I miss my Dad? Yes. Most definitely.
So, if you need me I’ll be wrapped up with a heating pad and hopefully getting a prescription filled for something a little stronger than ibuprofen. And remembering Dad while I wallow in misery. Which would do nothing but irritate the hell out of him. I like to consider it an homage to my teenage years, which I spent torturing him with my sadness and mood swings.
I miss you, Dad.