F Day is an F You

Me and Dad at USC in front of the Tommy Trojan statue

F Day feels like a big F you. From the second to last week of May until the morning of F Day, my inbox if full of junk solicitations from Amazon.com, 1-800-Flowers, Create and Barrel, Target, Khols, the list goes on and on, all reminding me that I’m running out of time to get my dad something special this father’s day. I find it so hard not to be bitter that he isn’t here any longer to give him a gift. I find it hard to look past the painful reminder that my father was taken prematurely from our family and that with him went all connectivity and sense of family that we once had. Now it is just me. Me and my mom, although she hardly calls me and expects me to check up on her, and really doesn’t do much to understand what is at the core of my heart. She just isn’t that type of woman.

Typically I could avoid feeling this bad on F Day because I was able to spend the day doing something my dad used to love to do; something in honor of him. Or I could sleep the day away eating pizza and watching crappy television shows to block out the emptiness. But this year, things are different. I am literally forced to celebrate F Day by having to work, running a remembrance service for all those who have lost their fathers, grandfathers, and any important man in their life. So here I am, really sad and still devastated that my own dad, my best friend and mentor, is no longer living, and yet I have to work at the cemetery where he is not buried, hosting a remembrance service to celebrate F Day.

In an effort to find some balance and peace with the entire situation, and to properly grieve in a healthier fashion, I will list out 12 things I loved about my dad, one for each year he has been gone.

1. His spirit
2. His calming presence
3. His love and loyalty to family
4. His understanding of giving and receiving respect
5. His sense of humor and quick wit
6. His passion for his job
7. His courage, even in the final stage of his life
8. His intelligence
9. His ability to make me feel like a princess
10. His love of sports
11. The way he made little glasses on the “D” in Danny Felsen when he signed his name, so it would look just like him
12. His knack for pulling off the best pranks

My dad was and always will be the light in my heart that guides me, drives me, steers me in the right direction, and keeps me going when I want to give up. It is impossible for anyone who has not lost their parent at a young age to fully understand what it feels like to have to go on with life following their passing, and how challenging it is to literally have to grow up overnight and have no rule book to follow with guidelines and explanations making it easier to navigate life with the burden of pain and grief that you carry in your heart. The longing and deep void from his absence doesn’t go away and I feel like it in a way defines me now. When my dad died I changed and my life changed and my heart changed. I have been forever imprinted by the spirit of goodness, compassion, friendship, love and loyalty that my father had in his soul, and do whatever I can to be a good person and live up to his legacy every day.

Dad, my Tommy Trojan, my superhero, my best bud – I love you unconditionally, whether you are physically here with me or are a spirit of energy surrounding me and I navigate my way through the course of my life. I sincerely hope that I make you proud and that you know how deeply sorry I am that you got sick and that you are not here with your family. I wish there was a way to connect with you and tell you that I love you, and that I am sorry for all the shit I put you through as a crazy, chaotic and self-righteous teenager. I wish I could tell you that you were right; the tattoos were a really bad idea that I really do regret, and that I should have blindly listened to you all those times you gave me advice on my future. I wish I could laugh with you now looking back on all those times you said that I had to do things the hard way, because it was so true. Most of all, I wish I could run to you and give you a hug like I was a little girl seeing her dad pick her up from school after the first day; and never let go.

I love you today, on F Day, and every day to follow. Thank you for being the best father a girl could ask for, and even though our time was cut short, I cherish every moment and every lesson. Rest assured that you were a great father; the best in fact. And you were truly loved.

Love hard. Live hard. Enjoy the ride.

Wayne Dyer recently posted on Facebook this quote above and said that the holidays are a good time to focus on reconnecting with the spirit of love and living life to the fullest. Making a personal promise to live life in a more meaningful way will make each moment more enjoyable and we should approach life with a child-like awe and appreciation for its beauty.

This really resonates with me, and is something I often try to do. It is so easy to get wrapped up in the daily drama and be blinded by material and surface issues that often leave us forgetting about the small miracles that happen each day. It is so easy to get suck on selfish thoughts and so absorbed in our own lives that we forget what is important to those around us that we care about.

I read what Dyer wrote last night and found myself wishing more people did exactly what he was saying. I wish more people could get out of their own concern long enough to remember things that are important to other people like a first day at a new job, or a big meeting they were nervous to have, and take time to make sure that person knows they are being thought of. I wish people cared more and recognized that a quick text, a phone call on an important day, or even the simple act of remembering something someone told them goes a hell of a long way to another person.

But the most difficult challenge is not accepting the fact that people can be selfish and often forget what is important to others unintentionally, it is making sure you do not change how you behave in spite of it all. There are times when I want to refrain from reaching out to someone just because they have forgotten to ask me how something went when they knew I was going to do something I was scared to do. I realize it is petty of me to think like that, but after a while I feel like a fool for being more concerned with their well being than they care for me.

Inner dialogue does eventually lead me to realizing that just because someone is more selfish than I am, I should not compromise my values and be any less caring of an individual. What I can do is change my expectations of them and rely on their closeness a hell of a lot less. A friendship and especially companionship is something I take very seriously and I have always expected that what I put in I should receive in return.

With the holiday season here I am thinking about family, friendships and love a lot more. I am very thankful for the friendships I have and the life I live. I have endless opportunities ahead of me as long as I am receptive to change, willing to try, open to new adventures and honest with myself. I have friends who encourage and inspire me and I should tell them more often that they do so. I should be more open with my feelings and let people in.

I love hard. It is a fact. I used to want to change that about myself, but no longer see it as a bad thing. If the right person is out there for me, they must understand that about me and respect it. Communication is everything. Relationships with people I care about and their lives and experiences are more valuable and important to me than any material thing. Life is worth living to the fullest, love is worth experiencing. It really isn’t a bad thing to wear your heart on your sleeve and be open to new love. I think it is not worth living a life where you are scared to take a step, controlled in an old and comfortable routine. Life is a challenge to embrace, accept and challenge back.

If you are my friend, new or old, you are someone I love deeply. If you are someone I love, I care about you. If I didn’t show it enough this year, I am sorry. I will do better next year. I promise.

Love hard. Live hard. Enjoy the ride.

Living Out Loud

Treadmill blogging is back folks! I am at a new gym in Hollywood trying to establish a new routine and run off an emotional day. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster sitting in the front car inching my way up to the top waiting anxiously with every click of the track for the big drop. I've got Safe and Sound by Capital Cities blasting in my headphones and my heart beat pounds to the rhythm. I am running my hardest trying to sweat out what is aching.

I got a beautiful message today from an old friend about my writing. It made me feel so good to know that my writing in this blog resonates with someone and helped put a smile on their face and shed some perspective on life's challenges. It was such a compliment to know someone recognizes my bravery for living my life out loud, in the open for the world to read. It really is hard.

I also got to thinking about all that I share with everyone and the different struggles I've faced over the years. I started evaluating what I'm unhappy with. And then I started missing my dad. A lot.

I'm at a place in my life where I really need him to be here. I need my dads gentle reassurance that I haven't royally fucked up my life and that although it's really hard to recognize now, I am actually headed for greater things. I need his care and his sense of humor. I need to be cared for; a priority.

I also kick myself for always seeming so confident and strong. I never tell people the truth when they ask how I am. I give the typical canned answer - "I'm great. Things are going well." When inside, I'm scared and sad at times. I need a hug and an "it will be okay kid" pep talk just like anyone else. 

The anxiety was so strong today and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in front of a fireplace and go to sleep. I wanted to feel the warmth of the fire and dream of going out for lunch with my pops. I wanted to picture him telling me that he is proud of me and I haven't let everyone down. That I will be with a man who really respects and loves me and cares for me in the nurturing way I desire and deserve. That I will be financially successful and make good decisions. That I will build a life with a beautiful family. That anything can happen if I put my mind to it. That I am still his little peanut. 

And now I'm running and crying on the treadmill in the new gym. Way to make a solid first impression on all the beautiful people of Hollywood. I just don't care. I need these tears to come out. I need to release this pain that I carry with me so deep inside on a daily basis. I need to bare it all to build myself back up.

I am very honest with my emotions as raw as they may be. I made a promise to myself that I would be forthright with my feelings and truly live. So here I am. Take me for what I'm worth. I'm living out loud. 

Trick or Treat

I found a lot of pictures from my childhood while boxing up my belongings during the move. Sitting and looking through them last night took me back to so many different times with my parents, friends and other family members. I tried to recall the feelings within the moments captured. One of the last pictures in the stack of family photos was this one pictured here. My parents were not the most artistic (clearly) but attempted to paint my face so I could be a clown for Halloween. They did the best that they could and I was happy that they even made the effort.

Clown Attempt

This picture, as hilarious and slightly frightening as it may be, stands for more than just a silly kid in a Halloween costume. It shows the great effort my parents put into making sure I was not left wanting and the amount of time they dedicated to my childhood. I was never without love and had two parents who were involved 100%. I feel very lucky to have had the childhood I did, and attribute a lot of who I am today to them.

Cinderella

Dad was Mom, Mom was Dad, I was a Rock Star

Halloween was always so much fun for me. I loved the idea of dressing in a costume, being able to pretend for the night that I was a princess, a puppy, or even a clown. I would really get into character. I was so excited to walk around the neighborhood with my dad, anticipating what candy would be at each house, looking forward to coming home and spreading all my candy out on the floor to measure the damage. The holiday is not as enjoyable anymore as I am unfortunately not a parent, so I really don’t have any reason to go trick or treating… I think people would frown upon a 31 year old woman dressed up as a clown asking for candy. I hope that one day I am lucky enough to enjoy what my father experienced watching his daughter race down the street in a Cinderella dress going from house to house gathering as much candy as humanly possible with an ear to ear grin on her face, looking back to make sure he was still there behind her.

50's Girl

This Halloween I will remember the good times with my parents, the excitement of festivities, the complete exhaustion at the end of the night, hiding candy under my bed eating until I got sick, and the love I felt from my family who made sure I had the time of my life. This year, I will put on my Afro wig and disco diva costume, go out with my friends, and think of my pops. Always a trooper, always making sure there was fun had by all.