“it’s a feeling I just
can’t explain”, “You wouldn’t know unless it happened to you”, “there are no
words to describe it”…these statements are true. There are often
experiences and feelings in life that no one will ever understand unless they
have been through the exact same experience. Example One: Childbirth. We have
all heard women describe the moment they held their babies for the first time
by saying things like, “I felt my whole life change in that instant, it’s a
feeling I just can’t explain” and “I never knew I could love anything so much
until that moment, it is just indescribable”. There are many moments in life when words loss
power. You can talk and talk and talk but unless someone has been through
something the same way you have, they will never understand. These are the
reasons I rarely talk about my fathers passing.
I am currently reading Hope Solo’s autobiography, SOLO: A Memoir of Hope, and last night I read the chapter
where she finds out her father passed away.
It was a tough one for me, seeing as though she found out in a similar
way as I did that her father had died. Sadly, it was comforting. Through the whole
book she has described her troubled relationship with her father due to his
alcohol addiction and poor decisions. She also discusses how much she admired
her dad and thought he could never do wrong. She mentioned that he was a dark
haired Italian man that was very gregarious about life, everyone that meet him
loved him and he always made her feel as though she was loved and special. I
have always felt like she was describing my father in many ways, but it was not until last nights chapter that I felt extremely connected with her.
She found out about her fathers passing while on the road playing
soccer with the USA Olympic Team. She awoke one morning and noticed a Seattle
phone number (her home state) had called her phone quite early and left a
message. The message was a women asking her to call her back regarding (her
fathers name) immediately. She returned the call to have the women reply, “I am
wondering what arrangements you would like us to make for the body.” That is
how she found out her father had died. She explained that the moment was indescribable
and she is 100% right, because I know myself there are no words to describe a moment
like that.
At the time of my fathers death I hadn’t talked to him in a
few years. My father had struggled with alcoholism and after many years of trying
to justify his lifestyle my siblings and I became exhausted of being
heartbroken by our fathers disease, so we chose to step back until he was ready
to get well. Like Hope, I was a big fan of my father despite his struggles. In
the years we spend apart I thought about him everyday, wondering if I would run
into him somewhere or if he would call and be ready to start anew. But mostly I
thought about the day that I would get a call that something had happened to
him and how I could not let that day come without him knowing how much I loved
him. I began to develop an immense amount of anxiety when I would think about
him, fearful that although I know he always knew I loved him, I would never be
able to say it to him again or hear his voice or feel his hug.
The day before I found out about my fathers death, the day
he actually died, I got home early from work because of a snow storm and had
lunch with my mom. She made pannini’s and I can’t remember what was on t.v. but
it made me tell her that I had a dream about dad last night and all day I had
been thinking about him. I expressed my fear that one day he was going to die and I would never get a chance to
see him again. We discussed my feelings and how I felt I needed to get in
touch.
The next day I was home from work due to the snow when I heard the
doorbell ring. I walked to the peep hole and noticed two police officers at the
door so I grabbed my mom before opening it. The officers asked for my brother,
who was in Arizona at the time for spring training, so I told them he was not home. They then asked for me, using my full legal name. I told them it was me
(my heart racing so fast I could hardly answer) and they then handed me a card
and asked me to call the number right away, my mom instantly starting saying “my
god its your dad, it has to be about your dad”. I closed the door and walked
the slowest walk of my life to the phone, after two rings a women answered
asking my name and if I knew (my fathers name), I assured her I was his
daughter and she proceeded to tell me “you are listed as next of kin but have
been out of touch with your family so I am sorry to tell you this way but your
father has died” She then gave me my cousins phone number and asked that I call
her for details. I don’t remember hanging up or what I said to my mother, I
just remember the way I felt… which is weird because it is truly indescribable.
I have never felt more connected to someone I have never
meet than I did to Hope Solo while reading that chapter last night. For so long
I felt ashamed and guilty. I have felt like my friends don’t understand the
pain I have experienced since I was apart from my father for some time... like my everyday life wasn’t going to change
so my grieving wouldn’t be as bad as theirs would be or anyone else who would
lose at parent. I have thought about this for some time but a lot more than usual today. Right now I feel as though I have found some
peace in the fact that just because my relationship with my father wasn’t
perfect, it wasn’t any less special. I finally feel like my emotions and
experience is justified, that others have lost their parents the same way and
healed.
This is the beauty of sharing our stories and this is why I
love reading biographies. It reminds us that life is full of struggles and
sadness and that we aren't always alone.
It reminds us that our “you won’t know how it feels until it happens to
you” statements are true and justified and powerful when words are not.
