Daddy Diary Entry, June 2016
A Letter to My Late Father
Written 6/17/16
Dear Dad,
It’s been awhile since I last wrote you, and I honestly wish I had more to say and that I was in a better place with everything. It’s been approximately 4 weeks since your memorial service, and tomorrow, it will be 6 weeks since you left us. On Sunday, it will be Father’s Day.
I’m sorry I never actually made that scrapbook I promised you a few Father’s Days ago. You always brought it up too, so I know you wanted it. I still never did it. I was selfish then, and probably still am because I can’t say that I would’ve made it for you this year if you were alive, and I can’t bring myself to make it for you now that you’re gone.
I’m scared Daddy, and I think people are starting to worry about me. I’m worried about me. You know the saying “Take it day by day”? I always knew that made sense and was smart, but right now I am literally taking things day by day, and I feel like I’m fucking up every single day. I’m terrified because I feel like I'm in such a crucial point in my life, and if I don’t move in the right direction and make this company work, then my path will lead a different direction, ultimately leading me to unhappiness.
I’m scared of where that different path will lead me, and absolutely terrified at how easy it is for me to go down it. Every single day is a true struggle not to go down that path of destruction, pointed arrows marked as “Alana’s demise” tempting me towards that route. Sometimes I know I’m going down that path and sometimes I just don't care. That’s also what scares me. I don't care!
I feel so numb yet so full of emotion that I am truly paralyzed. Sitting here now, writing this while openly weeping in public, and I feel like I'm glued to my seat, unable to move. I literally feel like my bum is dead weight, and while I could use my legs to try to lift myself up, I just don't want to because I don't care to. A tightness in my chest gives me anxiety, “can we get up?!” “can we move from here?!” “should we try it?!” I say we because I know that my body and mind are so disconnected that they’re two distinctly separate pieces which make me whole. The tightness in my chest lifts with the weight of the last question, “Should we try it?!” A dark emptiness swiftly fills my chest, and I resolve to sit still as I ask myself “Why does it even matter?” “Why do we even have to move, we have nothing to get up for.” I wonder how long I’ll sit here for, and what the reason will be to get up. It will very likely be because I’m hungry, I’m always hungry lately. But it could also be that it will be me leaving because it’s a Friday and I don’t want to be at Hotel Indigo for too much longer because the scene will change, and the room here and the one upstairs will soon fill with those who actually live their lives, seeking that Friday night drink, or going on a date, etc. I used to love coming here for drinks with friends, overlooking the skyline, chatting, making friends here. I came here the night before you got sick. I begged you to meet me here so you could see it, but you were feeling too ill to move from the couch. I wish you were here with me now.
This place is one of the places that pushed me towards my new career because I found it before anyone else did, showed it off, and really loved everything about it, so much so that I decided to quit my job so I could be part of the PR behind places like this, and do that full time. I used to LOVE that idea, it used to make me so happy to reflect upon, and used to get me so excited for the future. Right now I just feel nothing. Nothing except the stiffness in my ass. I wonder if my legs are falling asleep but I don't care to check. I ponder the idea that if my legs did indeed fall asleep, and I stood up quickly, if I would even catch myself from tripping, or if I would just let myself fall. If I did fall, would I even pick myself up off the floor, or would I just lay there? How long would I lay there for? How long would it be until someone actually cared? How would I get up? Normally I would try to change that and to think differently, but today I genuinely don't care and simply just don't care to do so. Yes, I’m taking things day to by day, but I’ve had all too many days like today, that I’m scared because I know this is becoming all of my tomorrows.
I know that each day I don’t move forward towards my golden path, I’m coasting in the direction of the dark path. It’s funny how you can head a certain way without even moving. Funny, real, and scary. In my mind I imagine the path towards “Alana’s demise”. It’s so dark, you can’t see anything. Remember when we were driving together in North Carolina, and it was so dark outside that we both exclaimed “Oh my God!! It’s SOO dark out I can’t see a thing!” I know your eyes are bad (especially at night), but even I truly couldn't see what was right in front of me. That’s what this road looks like - clouded by darkness, not a streetlight in sight. Black cracked concrete with sticks and branches everywhere. A path so openly plan, imperfect, and desolate that its image alone scares me. It’s frustrating to be scared all the time, More frustrating to not do something about it. Maybe it’s because I don’t even know what I would do.
What I used to love about New York City - being a person who stood out on a crowded street - a person with a mission, an attitude, and aura, a passion, and a purpose - that’s what caught people’s attention - that’s who I was. I can’t say that I know who I am anymore. I just know that I don’t think I like how I’m acting or who I’m becoming, but that I also don't care to change it. I don't have any children to be strong for, Chelsea doesn't need me, she has Josh, and you are gone. I don’t have anyone to be strong for and I’m too tired of being so strong for so long, that I don't even have a flame of desire to be strong for myself.
I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried every mental trick in the book I used to use to motivate myself to move forward. I try to find meaning in the small things each day, I try to stay positive, and I even tried to use other people as self-motivation by creating imaginary scenarios in my head. Yet I sit here knowing that you wouldn't be proud of me right now. To take things from an outsiders perspective, I’m sure I look fine and seem to be handling things well. I always was my toughest critic and my own worst enemy in many ways, but I hold myself to a higher standard because I know I can be better. I also know that while you were always proud of me, its because I earned that pride. I want to make you proud every day Daddy, I am just struggling to find a way to do it. You’re not here so I can’t get a sense of what you want, and we had differing viewpoints on my company in your final days, so I don't feel confident in the next steps, because what if it wouldn't even matter to you?
One thing I do know is how proud I made you at your memorial on May 20th. We know I’m hard on myself, but on this day, I peaked at life. I know that for certain. I knew how proud of me you were on that day, I fucking felt it.
I just knew how happy that event would make you. I knew it was the celebration of life you deserved, and I wouldn't change one damn thing, not a single thing. I’ve never had the experience before. It was the toughest challenge of my life - it exhausted me creatively, physically, mentally, emotionally, but it was all worth it. I am amazed at myself for thinking of that idea (as literally no one has ever done it before), and it was perfect.
I knew it would make you proud, so I did it. Again, I struggle to think of what would make you proud now. Me being successful? Would that make you proud or would you not even care if I married rich or something like that? Would you care if I settled? For me settling was never an option, so we’ve never had this discussion. Ever the dreamer, I had grandiose plans for my life, but did you ever think they could realistically happen? Did you ever want them to? I know some of my plans were so far-fetched they made you laugh out loud in disbelief, “Well if anyone can do it Lana, its you.” Did you actually believe that? Do you still think I can do this? Would you care if I didn't, and I just lived a normal, practical, boring life? Would you care if I went back to corporate America and just did well there? I so badly wish you were here so I could ask you these questions.
Maybe if I think about what I could do with this company and how I could live my life to make you proud, I would be able to get my ass off this fucking chair (my legs have definitely fallen asleep at this point) and make tomorrow a better day (I think today is a lost cause). I’ve honestly wasted this entire week. I wanted to launch my website with full content by Monday. So its now after 5pm on Friday, and I’m busy tomorrow and Sunday and having good content in time essentially means being able to write good shit (and a good amount of it) tonight. I guess I won’t put too much pressure on Monday because when it happens it happens. I just worry that if I don’t put pressure on myself, I’ll never do it.
I sent your bone marrow donor Jeff a note yesterday, thanking him again for attending your memorial. That was yesterday’s technique to have a better and more productive day. I know staying in touch with him would make you really proud. I know how happy you’d be if I told you we met his two beautiful daughters. I do hope to meet them some day. He didn't respond yesterday, but that’s okay because it was a lost day anyway. He did however send a lengthy response today that I have yet to read because I wanted to get my other feelings out to you first. I find that in order to move forward, I need to be completely honest with you and with myself, and doing that means getting all this out. Telling you how I am continuously fucking up, admitting to my current failure, and being open about my insecurities. This way both you and I know where we stand.
I think from this point so far, its clear that I know I’m fucking up, and that deep down I want to change, and while each day I try to, each day I fall short, still in search of the fuel I’ll use to move forward. I don't want to go down the path to “Alana’s demise”, but I don’t know how not to. As I write the words, the numbness begins to dissolve. My legs DEFINITELY fell asleep - I’m actually in pain. How long have they been hurting like this? Why did it take me so long to realize? Why did it take me so long to change?
Well, I took a little walk around to stretch my legs - I think i bruised my balance tendon or whatever (that’s what Tim said it was) from wearing heels last night and I still feel sick with a wine hangover. But on my short walk around the room, and to the bathroom, I realized that in order to change, I have to act. These little mindfuck tricks are what I have to do to keep myself moving forward. Its exhausting, but I have to do it. Failure is not an option. This company, my life, everything I want has to work simply because there is no other way. There is no fall back, no plan B, not because there can’t be, but because why would there be? I want this, I’m good at it, and I have the time to do it. There are no excuses, and I definitely can’t use you as an excuse. Imagine how sad you’d be and how much you’d resent me if my tagline became “Oh Alana, yeah…she wanted to start her own company, but her dad died and she didn’t see it through after.” People would understand and join in my mini pity party, but I can hear you saying “Lana, you ruined your life because I died? How silly is that?!”
I took a good long look at myself in the mirror. Normally, I’m all about the personal appearance. My struggle is evident with my yellow teeth, pale skin, gross nails, and chubbiness. It’s clear I’ve let myself go. I’ve been trying to work out regularly and eat healthier, but always make excuses. I used to be so good about that stuff before you passed. I think taking control of this aspect of my life each day will help me. While vain, I think personal appearances provide instant gratification for those grieving or suffering with depression. Maybe its because you can see the results almost immediately (painted nails, whiter teeth, sunless tanned skin). Or maybe its because you know the results will be long term (getting an ab, seeing a little more definition), but each day will be a sign of your progress and will make you feel good about taking a step in the right direction. I noted today that I stopped caring but I want to care. I want my body to change and I want to see it. I want look and feel good each and every day.
So now that I completely understand my feelings and failures both mentally and physically, and have the desire to change, I need to understand my motivation. At this time, I will read Jeff’s response and will see what inspiration I can gather from it. Stay tuned.
I love corresponding with Jeff, he is such an emotional and thoughtful writer - much like myself. It is so fulfilling to read his emails and this may sound strange, but I think Jeff and I are very similar, almost the same in some ways. Despite not really knowing him, I feel very connected to him. I mean, we have to be related because of your match history, so it’s not a far off idea. I think that comment would make you smile.
While Jeff’s entire note was beautiful, and this excerpt was what I chose to gather for fuel for my future:
“…if the memorial service somehow benefits another family who knows where, that would only further enrich Don’s legacy.” That was the entire purpose of your memorial. As many of those in the room, never actually met you, they felt like they knew you! What a humbling concept. About 100 guests in attendance, and maybe only a handful have actually shaken your hand. Through us you’ve touched their lives. Through us they knew you.
So even though you’re gone, there’s nothing stopping me from getting people to know you. You could be my silver lining. In sharing my experiences, people can relate to the darkness I feel everyday. They can know that they are not alone and that we are here for them. Others can know that even though they hit rock bottom, they can still turn their lives around. The only thing permanent in life is death - so its absolutely never too late to change, no matter how many months or years its been since hitting rock bottom. I can say for certain that right now I am at rock bottom. I’m here right now and the journey up looks so far and hard, but I can see the light in the very far distance. We can help people through our experiences Daddy. We can touch and change lives. Through you, I can make a difference. I smile to myself as I imagine you doing a little dance on a puffy cloud in the sky “I’m cool man! People are going to know me. Yeah baby!” I’m giving you a high five right now, and apologize that I look like such shit right now and that you have to see me like this. I’ll get it together, it took me a little while, and admittedly longer than I wanted it to. I know I’m cutting it close on timing, but I think I finally got this. We got this.
To those of you reading, I apologize for the lengthiness (I just love to chat), but hope that you’ve made it this far and can take away the most important piece of this letter. If you, like me, are at rock bottom right now, let’s get through this together. Even though we may be at Rock Bottom for different reasons, we can still relate to and help each other. The journey from Rock Bottom is going to be a long one, and its going to be hard and exhausting, but I can see that light in the very far distance and I think once we get to that light something great will happen. I don't know what that something is, but I can feel it. I’m here for you. Each and every one of you. I care about you and I want to help you. I mean that.
Being an empath, sometimes I feel all too much pain of the people surrounding me. I don’t mind it because I think I can help. If you too are at Rock Bottom, I hope that following my experiences and mimicking my thought process and moving forward vs. going towards that other path will help you. And if you are currently not at Rock Bottom, then that’s amazing and I want nothing but the best for you. Unfortunately Rock Bottom will come in time, that’s just how life works, And when the time does come the you find yourself in this compromising position, I want you to be ready. When life hits you so hard it knocks the wind out of you….you cannot crumble. You cannot crumble because while you may think that no one cares about you, I care about you, and I need you to be strong for both me and for yourself. For those who have accepted the shitty hand life has dealt them, and overcome their own personal challenge, the reward has been greater than anything before. If I can help one person, that’s enough of a reward for me.
Through me you’re not only going to get to know my dad, but you’ll come to understand why I loved him so much and just how great of a person he was. I am so happy to share that with you. My sister and I have very little family, and we basically only have each other, but it was the most beautiful thing to see 100 people at my dad’s memorial. If you’re reading this, I want you to know that my dad and I love you and hope to help you by spreading love through our story. I love you. Don Goodman loves you. We are both here for you. We both careabout you. Every single one of you. So much.
Our love for you is unconditional, so we understand that you may make mistakes, and that’s okay.It’s okay to make mistakes as long as you are self-aware, realize your fault, and overcome the hurdle. I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m doing it too. I’m not sitting here preaching, I am here experiencing, I understand your pain. More than anything, I want you to know that it is never too late to change. The only thing permanent in life, is death. So because you are living, you can change - nothing is permanent. Please don’t take the ability for change away from others or from yourself by destructive behavior.
When I look back on my dad’s passing, my sister and I took him off life support. We surrounded him with get well cards and old cards we gave him in the past. In his final moments, my sister, her boyfriend, myself, and one of my best friends (Elisa - she’s the best!) went through a slideshow of our Sweet 16 pictures (he always wanted us to), and Chelsea’s high school graduation speech (that nerd was salutatorian). It was the perfect ending to my dad’s life, and I am happy that we were in control of it and could give that to him.
No matter how bad you think things are, or how bad it feels, there is always a way to make things better, and I’m here for you through the good and the bad, and I’m going through it too. When you hit Rock Bottom, the only way to go is up. Embrace that. As I mentioned before, while Don Goodman and I love you unconditionally, you have to earn our pride and respect. If you can’t find the strength to work to better you for yourself, then do it for us. My dad is my motivation, and we can be yours too. Maybe we will do a one year anniversary memorial service for my dad - and maybe we will meet then. Maybe 200 people will come, and maybe I’d have touched lives and maybe I’ll be happy. I hope that happens. But if it doesn’t, I will be okay, because we are all going to be okay.
As I end this letter to my dad, and now to you readers, I wanted to end by copying the end of Jeff’s latest email to me:
“Lastly, I know that this coming Sunday will be a tough one. I recommend doing something that you know your Dad would have loved. I’ll be thinking of you both and will be giving you a virtual hug from afar.”
With love,
Your cousin,
Jeff”
I smile with glee as I think to myself, “Little does he know…” and I can’t wait to show him just exactly what Chelsea and I have planned to honor our dad on our first Father’s Day without him.