I Didn't See Him Before He Died

I haven't seen him in years

My father’s death could not have happened more slowly or more suddenly. He had been dying for as long as I could remember. A couple of times, he literally died and came back. There is never a good time for death, but his last year happened to fall during the same year I got divorced—possibly the worst year of my life. We did not have much of a relationship the last few years, and the divorce was so sudden and so traumatic that by the time I regained a little bit of sanity, so much time had passed and I didn’t know how to begin to explain all of these changes in my life to a man I already hardly spoke to. Time kept passing, and I had to disassociate for a lot of that year to survive it. I was sad, I was scared, I was busy. I was a lot of things. I was certain that I wouldn’t have regrets, but the reality is that I do. I know I did nothing wrong, but I am still deeply saddened by the heavier pieces of my life. You can have a regret aimed at a situation instead of yourself and it can still tear you apart. This poem is pretty self-explanatory. I didn’t see him before he died. I haven’t seen him in years.

For my father James

I was in Missouri

I was volunteering at the humane society

I was wandering aimlessly around the cemetery

I was going back to school 

I was learning how to drum

I was avoiding him.

I wasn’t ready to see him again. 

I didn’t see him before he died

I haven’t seen him in years. 

I was covering whiteboards with equations

I was organizing all of my medications

I was changing diapers and watching caterpillars 

I was potty training twenty 2-year olds

I was selling my book.

He was falling asleep with a cigarette 

He was on a life flight from Pueblo to Denver

More than half his body was burned

And I was scared to see him.

I didn’t see him before he died,

I haven’t seen him in years.

I was watching TV with my eyes closed

I was taking only half of my  prescribed dose

I was waiting for his burns to heal

I was remembering every bad thing he ever did to me 

I was having nightmares that he was still hurting me

I was taking medication for PTSD

I was researching THC

I was trying EMDR

I didn’t see him before he died,

I haven’t seen him in years.

I was getting a divorce

I was flying around the country to see where I’d land

Time was passing faster than I’d planned

I was totaling my friend’s van

I was in physical therapy 

I was in a lot of therapy 

I was moving back to Colorado 

I was scared about him being near 

I was so fucking sad for an entire year 

I was sending his calls to voicemail 

I was blocking him on Instagram

And Facebook and even Pinterest and Facebook again 

I was finding a job

I was dating

I was debating if I was ready to tell him what happened

I was wondering if he’d be sober if I decided to call

I was trying it get a prescription for Adderol 

I was walking around our old neighborhood 

I was passing the apartment where he overdosed

I was holding back tears—

I haven’t seen him in years.

I was working 3 jobs

And an internship that turned into 4

I was writing even more

I was having panic attacks in bathroom stalls 

I was still ignoring his calls

I was answering one by accident 

He was asking if I was back in Colorado 

I was remembering how little he knew about my life

I was trying to decide if I should let him back in

I was wondering if I should visit him

I was getting bronchitis every month

I was in Iowa

I was in the hospital 

He was in the hospital 

I didn’t see him before he died,

I haven’t seen him in years.

I was on the swing in the Marshall’s backyard

I was swiping my credit card

I was crying in public places 

I was shaking in bed

I was wondering if he was already dead

I was half-planning that trip to Pueblo

I was just wondering when I’d feel good enough to go

I was taking a business class

I was changing my last name 

I was paying off the car

I was driving really far

I was trying to decide if I should go

He was telling me things I didn’t want to know. 

I was moving into my own apartment 

I was sending him a gift

I was imagining ‘if’

This might be his last Christmas 

I was buying him a hat

I was silencing the family video chat

I was going to go next year.

I didn’t see him before he died,

I haven’t seen him in years.

I was rebranding my website

I was playing with my hair

I was watching The Bear

I was going to go  ‘next weekend’

I was waiting for the meds to kick in

I was finding out he was still using

I was reading texts from him about pills 

I was paying my bills.

I was playing with film cameras

I was spending time with my sisters

I was waiting for one of us to get better 

I was debating visiting next month

But he gave me more reasons

That I wasn’t ready to see him.

I was driving to work

My Mom was calling to tell me he died

I was driving down Smoky Hill Road while I cried 

I was at a red light quietly sobbing

I was rear-ended while also absorbing the shock of him dying

I was hugging a stranger on the side of the road

I was crumbling at the thought of him ever letting go

I was trying to grasp an insurmountable amount of regret

I was pouring out tears to pay off my debt

I was replaying the goodbye that I didn’t know I wanted

I was living  alone in a home that felt haunted 

I was trying to nail a timeline to my mourning 

I was growing addicted to the sound of rain pouring

I was researching how other cultures deal with death

I was taking customers’ orders and holding my breath.

I was wearing a big black bow in my hair,

And waiting for someone to ask ‘why?’

I was hiring a lawyer to look into how he died

I was trying to remember the last thing he said to me

I was writing his eulogy 

I’m still wondering when to open the last voicemail he left me

I didn’t see him before he died

His funeral was the first time I’d seen him in years.