I have this HUGE fear of stairs, escalators, clowns, and moths...and butterflies. Yes, butterflies. They creep me out, I dislike them and they just bother me a lot! Irrational, but for those whom know me, when am I usually rational? Exactly. However, this will come more into play later on.
On April 25, 2012, my dad passed away around 1:20 in the afternoon; I was holding his hand. Most people said that I calmed him down, they could tell when I was around that he felt better. They said that this is why he waited, and why instead of my mom, whom had been there without leave, I was the one he was ready to say goodbye with. A good friend of mine, said that this was because if he saw that his baby girl was alright, that he knew it was okay.
On April 24, 2012, I called my mom to tell her and my dad that I had won my FFA CDE and would be going to Nationals. Through my happiness, slowly my mother broke me the news. I would need to come home right after, and would need to go directly to the nursing home. That night, I said my goodbyes to the man that had raised me for 18 years.
On April 25, around 2:00, I went back to class. It was the only thing I could do. After school I went to track, and most people just thought it was a normal day. Certain people knew but that was my own doing. I had always isolated myself when it came to problems, everyone in the family did, still does.
The next day was another day for me. I woke up went to school, and most people didn't say anything. Most people didn't know what to say. Then again, I wouldn't know what to say to an 18 year old who's father had just passed away either. So I did what I had always done, put on my big pants and dealt with it. I figured if I pretended that I was okay, everyone else would believe it too.
Friends and family members started to share their love and sympathy. However, the people that I thought would be there, weren't. It felt like they almost had no idea, and although all these people were there for me, I still felt alone. Even though, they probably could have still been there for me, but I had already decided I wasn't going to be that person. The one who needed all the help in the world, who was an open mess, and couldn't handle it all. I was going to be strong.
So, I continued to do things that I would normally have done. The day after, I ran in my second track meet of the season. About half way through the meet, it clicked for me. I wasn't ready to be there. I needed my rock, my backbone, I needed the person who was the only one who understood by never understanding a thing I said; I needed my dad.
A meet later though, I began to try and see the beauty in things. Dad was ready to go, he was better off, I may not have been but God does things that he understands. In these things though, he makes sure we are never alone. At this meet, there was a butterfly that landed on my things, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to move. Finally, after multiple tries, it finally flew away and I went about my business. I disliked butterflies and was happy that it was gone.
It wasn't until the next day that it clicked. Being at school was too hard, and I had to go home. On my walk, again I was pestered by this stinking bug! It would not leave me alone, driving me insane. I went home and managed to only cry a little before falling back asleep with yet another dream about dad. Later that day it all started to make sense. Dad had always been a little bit of a hippie, and loved the bright colors of butterflies. Plus, they can get kind of annoying, like a good dad does.
Whether it really was him or not I don't care; he's there still, every single day. Even if he decides to annoy me by being a bug that I hate so much, knowing he's there some how makes it easier to make it through the day.
butterfly don't fly away.
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