48 Days

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

March 31, 2022

Daddy,

It's been 48 days since you died. It doesn't get easier. With each day my heart aches even more. I tried so hard to take care of you and get you well. You weren't supposed to die!! Everything is falling down around me and I need to hear your voice tell me that you love me and you're proud of me again.I miss coming over every Saturday, bringing KFC and having discussions about everything and nothing with you at the same time. Despite our rocky beginning in life, we finished good and strong together. You were my best friend, my safety net in my chaotic life. I'm sure that those who have kicked me when I'm down are basking in some twisted joy at the grief and sorrow I'm in right now. All they cared about was money that never existed. I never cared about material stuff, I just loved you...good, bad and ugly...I just loved you. I still do.

Today, the waves of sorrow are sucking me down deep. It's so hard to breathe. My life jacket is frayed and worn. All I can do is body surf the waves and pray I live through it. I keep reaching for God's hand, hoping He'll pull me up. I just don't feel Him yet.

You were the oldest just like me and I know you tried to prepare me for what life brings to the oldest. It's lonely when your the oldest because everyone expects so much and gives so little back. They think the oldest can handle anything because they're strong. They get mad when the oldest is weak and needs help. They take and take and never give back. When there's nothing left to give they leave the oldest drowning in the waves. At least that's how our family is.

Daddy, as I became an adult, got sober and we worked through our stuff together, you became my safe place to land in this crazy world. It feels like I've went skydiving and my parachute won't open. I have no safe place to land anymore! I'm so weak and tired. I would give anything to just sit and hold your hand all evening again. I don't know how to get through this other than 1 second, 1 minute, 1 day at a time.

I know I told you in the last minutes of your life to go home to God, that I'd be okay. I'd get through it. Right now, it feels like I lied because I miss you so bad. I know I'll get through this wave, I have to so I make you proud. I know God will grab my hand and pull me through eventually.

In the end the only thing that survives is the love we shared.The depth of sorrow I feel is the price I pay for loving you so much...and the greatest of these is love.

Love you forever Daddy,
Andi ❤