Grief is a weird thing

Hey y’all, it’s Uncle Nick.

For those who don’t know, I lost both my mother and father this year, my father passing back in January and my mother later in April, and today would have been my father’s birthday.

Now it may seem weird that I’m making a blog post about my late dad’s birthday, and I’m not doing it for the sympathy or the attention, I’m doing it in hopes someone can feel like they’re not alone if they’re going through the same thing.

My father wasn’t much of a good man to me growing up, sure, he worked himself to death to provide for me and my mother, as my siblings had all moved on and started their own families at that point (I was late to the party, I guess) but when he was home, he was very negative about everything, and as I grew up, him and my mother would tell me that if my hobbies didn’t make money then what was the point of them?

My father was a textbook narcissist, always putting me down, always telling me my ideas weren’t worth anything, telling me that I was wasting my money and that I would never amount to anything, and to that I say….

I proved him and my mother both wrong

Sure, I spent a lot of money on hobbies that really didn’t take off, and the only reason I was really doing them was to try and make money on the side as I was working a real job and trying to help myself reach my goals financially, but to no avail.

But now that I am disabled, doing streaming is a fun thing to do besides sitting around and being in pain all the time.

I see that they were wrong.

I’ve built such an awesome community of amazing people and friends that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

After I moved out and got married to my lovely, supportive wife, they started seeing the error of their ways, hearing about me through them communicating to my wife as a sort of middleman because I didn’t want to lay eyes on them for a long, long time. But I changed my mind after they started to get sicker and sicker, especially after my paternal grandmother passed away in January of 2024.

We started to reconnect slowly, and they finally understood what I was trying to convey. However, they also held onto old phrases and gaslighting techniques. Nevertheless, my wife saw through their ways and supported me when they made me upset time and time again.

Around Thanksgiving of 2024, I began to see that my dad was, in fact, dying. Months prior, he told me that the doctors found a windowmaker blood clot in his heart, that, if not taken care of, he would surely die. He said he would go get it seen about, but he cancelled his cardiology appointment.

I could sense it; he was growing weaker, depending on my older sister and nephew to help him and my mother around the house, because I was trying to work on building a life for myself, and that’s one of the things I’m thankful they understood.

That, despite everything, I was still trying.

Even though it was out of spite, to prove him and my mother wrong, that I would amount to something, that one of my hobbies would shoot me into the limelight. I still would hope for their validation and to be told by them, finally, that they were proud of me.

Early January of 2025, my wife woke me up and told me that my father had a heart attack and was on the way to the hospital. I quickly got dressed and got in my car, and began to weep.

I wept for my father, not because he was the one who always made sure I had a roof over my head, not because I was still looking for his validation, but because I wasn’t ready to lose him so soon, although he was already very ill.

My father passed away at the age of 68, and there are some days I wish he had taken better care of himself and seen his doctors, and eaten healthier, but he was a man who had a troubling childhood, and a rough start to adulthood himself, and always seemed to be angry about something, but always made sure his kids we’re taken care of, and had what they needed. And for that, I am thankful for my dad.

Happy birthday dad, I miss you every day.

Your son, Nick