I don’t know what “normal” is anymore. Some nights I wake up and I think I’m back at my dad’s house and he’ll be sleeping upstairs. Every single day, something will make me think of him and I’ll think I should give him a call, or I’ll expect a call from him. We’ve never gone this long without talking.

I still don’t believe this is real. I fully expect my dad to jump out from around a corner, moustache bristling as he yells “SURPRISE!”, laughing his head off.

I don’t know what I feel. One second I’m angry, the next I’m sad.. 99% of the time I’m just numb.
I haven’t really been able to work much since I got the news, although I have done some work every single day. I work out, but.. it’s just the motions. Muscle memory of what I think I should be doing. I have so much I want to do, so much I want to accomplish, to keep making my dad proud.. yet all I can do is sleep.

I know I’m not the first to lose a parent. I know the pain will fade in time. I know my dad would thoroughly kick my ass if he knew I was moping around like this. He’d tell me exactly what he did about getting my first car; “If you want it badly enough, you’ll earn it for yourself.” He knew about my goals; what I’ve sacrificed so far and how hard I’ve worked. He wouldn’t want me losing sight of that. In fact, if I listen, I can hear his great, big heavy sigh right now, telling me I should know better.

If I could talk to him right now, he’d probably tell me to go for a drive and clear my head.. but cars and driving make me think of him. I will always, always, always love the memory of revisiting the roads he taught me how to drive on, in his monster 1979 3/4 ton 4×4. After I got my license, I hit those roads over and over again in my first car, and then in my Talon. I took dad back out onto those roads in the Talon, to show him just what it and his son could do together. To see my V8, quarter miles for pink slips, straight-line loving dad actually grab the holy shit handle, reach with his foot for a brake pedal that wasn’t there and say “okay! okay! okay! JASE! OKAY!” – all with a (somewhat scared) smile on his face…

He wasn’t only my dad. He’s handled the role of being both parents to me for a long, long time. He was my best friend. A mentor. A safety net and a sounding board.

I don’t know how to say goodbye. I don’t know how to even comprehend the thought of goodbye. There’s no normal in my life that doesn’t include my Grumpy Dad texting me random things at 3am or going off about conspiracy theories. There’s no normal where dad isn’t back home, putting on his fake grumpy act and smiling when people saw right through it.

Anyway, it’s Friday, so here’s my Mama Cat and the happy cup. This was a normal thing I used to do. Now I have to find a way to get back to work, like normal.