Why I Blog?
i started this blog about two months ago (mid-december 2011) for a variety of reasons.
4. Have a place to catalog all my writing & creativity.
3. Meet new people & establish new friendships.
2. Hold myself accountable on my weight loss journey.
1. Grieve the loss of my beloved father & best friend.
while i think more about #1 - it truly was the reason i started the blog. i wanted something to take my mind off of the pain. i wanted to find something that would bring joy back into my life & allow me to honor my dad the way he should be. losing a loved one can be hard on anyone, and for me it was especially hard. i fell into a severe depression, gained about 100+ pounds and lost my sense of self. in the last 3.5 years i've been through a huge transformation emotionally & am now thankfully in the rehabilitative stages of the grieving process. so... why do i blog? i blog because i know i'm not alone. i want others who have been through loss, or any kind of grief, to know that there is sunshine after the rain. i want to inspire others to bring joy back into their life & realize all their many blessings. i don't often put myself in a vulnerable position, but if i can reach one person, that is my calling. below is an excerpt from my journal a few days after my father's passing - it's amazing to me how far i've come.
"8/28/08 - Sunday morning started like any other - church with the fam. It was exactly noon when I got a phone call from my dad. He said he wasn't feeling good & was on his way to the hospital by ambulance. What? I just left him. Dad has always been a pretty healthy guy, but I laid aside any deep concern nonetheless. At 1:00 I called the hospital to check his status & they let me speak to him. "Hi Daddy, how are you?" I asked. "Oh honey, I'm in excruciating pain," he said. "Do you want me to come down there?" I asked. "Only, if you want to. They're just running some tests. It's up to you," he said. My dad was never one to worry about anything & his laid back attitude didn't surprise me. I decided to stay home for a while & wait to hear back. I told my dad I loved him & we hung up. Little did I know it would be the last time we spoke. I forced miss Sassy to take a nap with me because I was exhausted. At about 4:00 p.m. the phone rang. It was Father Dan at the hospital. "Ms. Sexton, this is Father Dan from St. Vincent's. I'm calling about your dad. We admitted him here this afternoon for emergency heart surgery. Please take your time, but it's important you come to the hospital." At this point, my casualty for the situation went from blue to Code Red in an instant. My heart began to race, terrible thoughts entered my mind and this eerie feeling of "it's too late" came over me. I was immediately numb & almost having an out of body experience. Not sure how to respond, I muttered, "I'll be there as fast as I can".
The hospital is a good 40 minute drive south & it probably took me 15 minutes to get there. Father Dan greeted me in the emergency room and we proceeded down a short corridor together. The further away from the ER we got, the more desolate & isolated the hallways became. It was cold. The walls were painted a mint green & everything was quiet – too quiet. He led me into a room decorated with paintings of unlikely animals; lion & lamb interacting, gardens filled with beautiful foliage & sunlight. I sat down in a comfortable chair & Father Dan excused himself. In hindsight, all the signs of Godliness should have been telltale to what was forthcoming. I sat quietly waiting, expecting news that my dad had undergone some kind of traumatic operation that would require extensive outpatient care to which I would be the most obvious & willing caregiver. Dr. Jumper, a cardiologist, came in with Father Dan & they sat down. Blue eyes, glasses, tall, brown curly hair; I'll never forget him. When I think back, the look on his face was just as difficult at delivering the news to me as it was for me to hear it. "Hi Marissa, I'm Dr. Jumper. I'm the cardiologist who took care of your dad today. Your dad came in complaining of stomach pain. After performing open heart surgery, I'm sorry to say that he passed away. (PAUSE) We did everything we could."
I immediately glanced at Father Dan who sat calmly with a box of Kleenex. (Are you &$*#ing kidding me?!?! No way you're telling me what I think you're telling me.) I broke down and began to cry but knew in my heart they weren't real tears. Crying just seemed to be the most logical thing to do when you hear something like that. Truthfully, I was overwhelmed. Every emotion one human being could possibly feel at one given time rushed through me like a tumultuous, confused rush. Why didn't I go sooner? I should have been by his side. I feel as though I left him to die so I could sleep. How could I be so selfish? Is this really happening? The first few moments thereafter consisted of Dr. Jumper laying out what happened. He died from a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. No noticeable symptoms, no warning – just death. Like an eraser to a chalkboard. How bittersweet that he died so quickly & without suffering. I asked to go see him alone. I wanted to share a moment with him before any of my family got there. I shared a bond with my dad that no one else had and I needed him to know that I was there and that I didn't abandon him. I told him how much I appreciated him and thanked him for the life he gave me. I needed him to know that I am who I am because of him. It was important to me that he knew how much I realized what he sacrificed for me. All the things he went without so I could have a good future. All the time he spent away from home working to support us. I will never forget & will honor him forever. It's been a week since dad died. I've returned to work already, because I cannot afford to be home... emotionally. I try to feel peace, but most days I struggle unsuccessfully to keep a smile on my face. Returning to my routine is crucial now for myself & my family. I wonder when my hot air balloon will begin its descent. I hope one day I will find myself on solid ground once again."
Terrence Edward Murphyloving Father, Husband & Son1947-2008
