A story...

Sometimes, dreams can be creepy. Especially the ones that come true. For months before my dad passed, I had dreams about him passing. I will now tell you about this such thing.

They were short dreams, just of how he had died and where it happened. He would be sitting in a friends front lawn, drinking, having a good time. Then he'd passout and never wake up. These dream always creeped me out, but not as much as they did when my mom came over on the fateful morning of October 3rd, 1998.

I knew there was something wrong, at the time, I wasn't living at home. I was living with some friends of the family. I thought, at the time, that was a better place for me. Boy was I wrong. That's a whole nother post though. Early that morning, mom came over, she was upset. She talked to the woman first, then she came in and talked to me. She told me that my great aunt Fay called her, and told her my dad had died. I remember feeling a bit shocked. I cried a couple tears, but nothing as much as you think you would when one of your parents dies. I don't believe I have ever really grieved for the loss of my dad. We didn't have much of a relationship. He lived in Florida, I lived in Nevada and we honestly didn't talk a whole lot. He was too involved in his own life to be responsible, and take care of his kids.

The night before he died, he was partying with some friends, from what I know he was drinking, have a good old time, that good old dad, the alcoholic, always had. It got late and he was already asleep in a lawn chair in his friends front yard. They left him there to sleep. Well, his friends woke up the next morning and thought he was still asleep. No one would have thought he was dead, until finally someone went outside to wake him up. Turns out, he died in his sleep. I can imagine it would have been a peaceful way to go. I know that he's in a better place, that he's happy. That he doesn't suffer from his gout anymore. He's not in and out of the hospital.

Life goes on, I realize that dying is part of nature. It happens to everyone. It was just a really crappy time to make his appointment with the grim reaper. I was almost 15 years old when he died. I am almost 27 now. I do miss him, but I am glad I don't have to watch him slowly killing himself. I, without a doubt know, that if my dad was still alive he'd still be an alcoholic. It consumed his every being. Nothing else mattered at that time to him. I hope you're resting in piece dad, and that you're enjoying your time, whereever you are.