It’s a weird feeling, missing someone you’re not sure if you can remember. I suppose it is more missing the idea of them - missing what could have been. I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot the past month, which is a subject that can put my head in a weird place. I was only a couple years old when he died, so I’m not even sure I have real memories of him. There are some small things - how he’d pull my brother and I in a sled while he cross country skied on the frozen lake we lived on and I’d drag my hands across the snow. How the back of his neck was so scratchy when he’d carry me in a backpack hiking. But these “memories” feel planted in my head by my mom saying I used to remember. They don’t feel real now. They feel made up. Just a story.
Everything I know about him is from what others have told me, so I know I have this romanticized idea of who he was in my head. This fantasy of someone else who should have been in my life but wasn’t. It’s hard not to think “Would life have been better?”. But even if suddenly a magic button appeared in front of me that when pressed, would make my life what it would have been with him it it, I dont think I could ever press it. It would mean a life without so many other things— like my little brother for example. My brain then goes as far to think dumb things like “Wishing your dad was still around is basically saying you wish your little brother wasn’t”. I know it’s unrational. I know it’s idiotic. These are all silly and useless thoughts.
I just wish I had the change to get to know him. But that brings another debate - is it actually easier not being able to remember anything about him? Would I miss him more if I did? Again, why am I wasting my energy thinking of these things?
One of the biggest thoughts that gets to me, and that I admit is really stupid to allow myself to get upset over, has to do with a cat. There was a stray cat that lived in the woods by our house growing up. Her name was Heather. I can picture her vividly in my head. I can remember getting excited when she’d be by the front door and going to pet her. These memories feel solid and real. The thing is, I’ve been told that if I remember her, I should be able to remember my dad because she was only around when he was.
And that makes me feel completely awful. How can I remember a cat but not my own father? It is so frustrating. And then it frustrates me even more for getting worked up about something that really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I remember or not. It’s not my fault if I don’t.
I dunno. Like I said. It puts my head in a weird place. It’s frustrating. That’s all.
I just wish I could remember him.
I just needed to get that out of my system, even though I’ve already spoken about it briefly with a few people recently. Enough ramblings. RAH. Need to focus and do homework.