The Ramblings of a Menopausal Woman

Trigger warning. This one has big feelings and it’s a long one. Go ahead and grab a drink or potty if you need to.

July 5:

I know previously I said I would post the follow up for my last post, but as I have proven before, I am liar. If you’ve been here before you know what you were signing up for. Absolute chaos. Now you get this post. Why? Because sometimes life throws you a curveball and you have to adapt. It’s time for me to adapt and pivot once again.

A few months ago, while I was going through all my kidney stone stuff, my dad got sick.

You see, my dad loved key lime pie. Even more so, he loved 42nd St. Oyster Bar’s key lime pie. So when Clay saw a post on FB that they were closing for good after 90 years, he sent it to me and said “What will your Dad do?” Immediately I went online and made reservations for four for the following weekend. The next day I called my dad and he readily agreed. The day before the reservations he even checked in to make sure we were still on. He called me on Saturday a few hours before our reservations and said that his stomach wasn’t feeling good so he wasn’t gonna make it. I knew if he was skipping out on his last chance for that Keylime pie that he must not be feeling well. But I was getting over strep throat, so I didn’t think too much about it. I just figured we’d reschedule something at some point. It’s not like me and my dad were especially close. About a week after he missed our reservation, I called him to see how he was feeling. When he answered, he was completely out of breath. After talking to him for a couple of minutes. I told him that he needed to call 911. He agreed but said he had to do some things first, and said he would call after he took care of my stepmother. She had her own health issues and he was her primary caregiver.

It turned out he was really sick. I basically shamed him into calling 911 . When he got the hospital, he ended up having over 20 pounds of fluid drained out of his chest immediately. Also while in the hospital he had an aortic valve replacement. During that time, he also celebrated his 50th anniversary in the hospital while my stepmother was on a different floor after having a heart attack a week after my Dad was hospitalized.

My stepmother Becky passed away on April 10th after a stroke and my Dad had to find a new alternative to that RV life that he and my stepmother had been doing. He ended up finding a pretty great 55+ apartment and seemed really happy. He was meeting new people and doing well with his health, he just overall seemed like he was navigating his new normal really well.

On July 5, that all changed. We found he had passed away in his apartment. It appeared to be quick, and I guess that’s all any of us can hope for. I think we all thought he was getting to the other side of those things because he had been feeling so much better. So him dying was unexpected but not necessarily surprising.

My brain’s not really sure what to do with this information. Like, how do you mourn somebody that was simultaneously part of your life and not part of your life? My dad and I were never what I would call “close”, but I liked him as a person and I think he was figuring out he liked me as a person as well. I thought he was a pretty cool dude. He actually came to my house for Thanksgiving last year and he came to my 50th birthday party. That is the only time I ever remember my dad being at my birthday party. He was always my father, but him trying to be my dad was a new thing. I don’t know how I feel about this right now. It just doesn’t feel real. And I’m not really sure what to do. Like what the fuck man? Why is 2025 so fucked up? And why did my dad have to die like just a week before the five-year anniversary of my mom dying? And why did it happen when I just finally like started to develop a relationship with him? I don’t know what to do here. Hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight all right thanks.

July 6

It’s the next day and I slept maybe four hours One thing I thought about is I think I’m mourning the Dad I got to know in March vs the father I had known prior to that.

I think for a long time he wanted to be the Dad my brother and I wanted, but he just wasn’t sure how. Or where to start.

It’s weird how alike me and my dad are considering we never lived together. My parents separated when I was three months old. My Dad and I were both very logical and analytical, sometimes neither of us did good with emotions. Much like Spock, or so I’ve been told. 🙃 I just think my mom’s personality helped balance that out in me and with her compassion and empathy.

July 11:

It’s almost a week later now. I’ve been working on this post throughout the week and I guess it gives a realistic perspective of how grief is different for everyone. Or how it’s different day to day for just one person. I’m fairly certain the first part of this post was voice to text because typing and brain function didn’t really go hand in hand. I have considered deleting this, but why? Your brain goes through so much when someone dies. So maybe someone will see this and not feel alone. Grief is like a fingerprint, it’s individual to that person. Grief is shaped by your age, culture, religion, personality, relationship, etc with the person(s) involved. I don’t think two people can have the same grief, so the approach to helping that person heal needs to be tailored to that person. There is no one size fits all. In the three parental figures (four, if you include my father in law) I have lost in the past 5 years, the process I went through was vastly different.

This one is different in a way I wasn’t expecting. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and pretend my father was some kind of great Dad. I don’t think I even knew him well enough to find out. My parents split up when I was 3 months old. And in 1974, single parenthood was a whole new way of life. I know my Dad made his choices in life and I really wish we had a better relationship because he seemed like a pretty cool guy. He used to race cars (a yellow bug eyed Sprite was his, I think), run marathons, and helped be part of the creation of online bill pay back in the 90s. He taught me how to put my body through a coat hanger. He told me he used the trick to get bar money when he was in college. So I used it to do the same thing when I lived in Los Angeles, even got LAPD to buy me a round once. I imagine I would have heard some interesting stories if we had the chance, and I really think this past year he was really trying to change that. My 50th birthday party, coming to my house for Thanksgiving, some other small things. We were at least headed in a good direction. The past few months was different, he seemed to have something click when he almost died in March. And he did tell me once that I probably saved his life that day. When I was sick, he called every morning to check on me. Unless I was at the beach because he said he wanted me to relax. Since March I got to know him more than I had in my entire life and I really liked him. It was also kinda eerie how alike we were since we never lived together. Those Padgette genes run strong I guess, ask my aunt. Lol.

I do wish I could pretend he was the best father because I actually really liked the guy. Just wish I had more time to know him. I can say that we both loved each other, in the best we knew how. When I got married 10 years ago, afterwards he told me he took secret dance lessons so he could dance with me at my wedding. It was the nicest thing he had ever done and the first time I thought he actually might love me too. And honestly, without him I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I do love my Dad very much. Always have.

Yes, I’m struggling right now. Losing my Dad almost exactly five years after losing my Mom really sucks. But I will be taking at least the next two weeks off for a reboot. Having no parents is a whole different feeling. Right now with everything that has happened the past few months, it’s just a lot.

My blood family keeps getting smaller, but thank goodness the family I have picked up along the way seems to keep growing. I am beyond thankful for the support myself and my family have received from my friends. Even in the bad times, I still remember how lucky I am for them.

I am also beyond lucky to have Clay as my husband. He has been absolutely incredible these past few months taking care of me and helping with my Dad. I don’t know what I would have done without him. He is the best.

So what’s the point of this? What’s the point of me spilling out my feelings for the world to see? I just want to keep saying the quiet parts out loud. I want people to know when they don’t feel “normal” when someone dies, it’s because there is no normal. Whatever you’re feeling is the right thing for you. Relationships are complicated. So is grief, and I guess that’s ok.

Now my brother and I have to figure out the best way to get my Dad launched into space like he wanted. I refuse to live out any “Weekend a Bernie’s” dreams he may have had.

It’s Ok!