It All Changed....

Ive been alive for 29 years, almost 30 in November. Honestly, i feel older than that, some days i feel like I'm 80 years old, like I've lived 5 lifetimes, which i guess could be possible because i believe in reincarnation so maybe I'm feeling some of my past lives lol. Anyways, my dad passed away on December 24 2008, and really I'm still grieving him. I miss him everyday, and even more on bad days. He never bullshitted me when it came to advice, he just said it how it was. If he thought i needed to tell somebody to fuck off, that's what he did. Even during the times when we weren't getting along and weren't speaking, which there were quite a few of (that dangle over my head and cause so much guilt its ridiculous), if i was having a problem, or a meltdown i could always go to my dad. He could be madder than hell at me but he'd make time to listen. There are days that i can hardly remember his voice or the sound of his laugh, and that kills me. The one thing i do remember clearly, like it was yesterday are his last moments alive. I was there. I had been there for 3 days straight, reading to him, talking to him, making sure he was comfortable. I had fallen asleep with my head on the bed beside him and i was awakened by him lifting his arm up and down several times. I knew in my heart he was about to be gone, i ran and got the nurse and she confirmed it, and asked if i wanted her to stay in the room, i told her no. I watched him take his very last breath, alone. Then i lost it. I layed on top of him screaming at him to wake up, promising him that if he woke up id be a better daughter, promising god that if he let my dads eyes open up id be good, id live a better life than what i had been, even offering to trade places with him, he could take me instead. Then the nurse came in and pulled me off of him and helped me sit in the chair, she tried saying some nice crap, telling me he was in a better place. Then Dustin, my younger brother came walking in and i lost it again, except i took all the anger i had and aimed it straight at him, i shoved him and almost knocked him down. I was pissed off because he wasn't there with me when our dad took his last breath. Now, I'm glad he wasn't. Its hard enough for me to see that moment replay over and over in my mind, i wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing my little brother had to go through that too. After that i was numb. I remember being at my house and holding his leather Snap On jacket and just sobbing, i cried myself to sleep. Honestly, Ive cried myself to sleep almost every night since he died. My dad was only 50 years old, he wasn't suppose to die yet, he should still be here! Everybody says "hes in a better place, hes not suffering anymore, blah, blah, blah" and most of the time i have to hold back from saying something rude like "wait till your mom or dad dies then tell me if you feel the same way", or simply "fuck you". I know that sounds horrible and I'm sorry but really do they think i don't know that? That doesn't change the fact that he was my dad, and he died way to soon, and i miss the hell out of him! RIP John Penoyer Jr My Dy 7-25-58 to 12-24-08