A year ago today, May 20th, 2012, I lost my father.
My last surviving parent.
I remember that evening, I brought my new 8 week old puppy that I had gotten the day before to the hospice room so my dad could pet her. He couldn’t speak and was putting every ounce of energy he had left just trying to breathe. His left side of his body completely paralyzed, a sight that no child would want to see of their parents. I was on edge for the past few months leading up to that day. I was mentally exhausted. Sleepless nights of thinking I’ll get a call that my dad had passed while I wasn’t with him.
But I think my dad stuck out as long as he could. I think he waited until he saw that I had gotten my puppy, that I was there in the room with him.
When my mother passed, I wasn’t with her. I was over at friends house and the next day, my father picked me up and told me my mother has passed that night in the hospital. At the time, I think it was for the better being so young and naive at the time.
And here I was, 12 year later, seeing my dad. I was honestly too afraid to hold him as he was passing. I just hugged my friend tightly in the room and saw my dad hold on to one of his friends had. Fighting so hard to breath, raising his chest so high to catch every little bit of life that was allotted to him. I left the room immediately after his pulse stopped because seeing my dad’s corpse for longer than a second was too much to bear.
I don’t know if any of you have seen anyone die, let alone someone as close as a parent, but its definitely a moment where you begin to start to reevaluated what you used to take for granted.
I’m so grateful for my friends that have been there for me when I needed parents. For when I was sick, for when I needed advice, motivation, and almost anything a parent might provide (except maybe a cosign).
I just wish my dad could see me preform my comedy. It was only after he died that I decided to go from writing comedy to actually preforming it. Laughing makes life worthwhile, and losing both my parents to horrible diseases, I know how precious life is. We have very little control how long we will live, so while we’re here, why not make it enjoyable.
Sure, I miss my father and I could easily complain about everything that sucks about my life without him. But that’s just depressing not worth my life’s precious moments.
Instead, I’ve shared my story and I’m glad many people have been reading my posts about losing parents and have found this a safe space to vent and share their stories. I’ve been through lots of tough shit, that getting the confidence to make a fool of myself on stage doesn’t seem as as scary.
Today, I’m not trying to think of it as the day I lost my father.
It’s more like the day I learned to live life.