The Club

It is the worst. I don’t say that hyperbolically. Whenever I find out that someone is a member of or just joining this club my heart breaks a little. We don’t have cool events, nice t-shirts or a club chant, we just share in an experience that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Losing a parent.

In the beginning, I couldn’t talk about it because it felt like a lot is a lot to put on someone.

“Hey my dad passed away, could you pass me the bbq sauce?”

So when it first happened to me I didn’t tell everyone, I was in shock (still am to some extent) and nothing made sense. It’s also weird because you feel conflicting feelings. On one hand, I wanted to tell everyone because I knew I was acting oddly as I started to shut down. And even for a long time after, whenever things would overwhelm me I would just shut down and retreated into myself. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see how this might have ruined some relationships and I owe a few people apologies. At the same time, I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want the pity. I knew how shit the situation was and people stumbling through clichés like how “it gets easier with time”, “knowing exactly how I feel” or to “let them know if I need anything” (show don’t tell) was just a painful experience for the two of us.

Me internally during those conversations.

Unfortunately for people in the club, they understand implicitly and maybe due to the law of attraction I continue to meet more and more people like me. It is so weird because we generally have the same experience; wanting people to know but not wanting them to know, being annoyed that people bring it up but also annoyed if they don’t (irrational I know) and familiarity with all the insane family drama a funeral brings up.

This chapter in my autobiography will be WILD.

I have thought about writing something about my dad, about his passing for a while. I don’t have those words quite yet. I want it to be great, some of my best work, something that will completely explain my relationship and love for him but that’s hard because our time together was incomplete. Our story in my mind feels unfinished and the last chapter is one of just pain. There was a gut-wrenching scream I made when I found out the news. I think I dropped to the floor as if a little bit of life had been squeezed out of me. I heard that same scream yesterday when I watched a young woman learn that her mother, my neighbour, my mum’s good friend passed away. I have an understanding of what she’s going through and because of that, I hate that she has to. Ours is a club with only a single refrain ‘I wish you weren’t here’.

Peace and Love, 

Aharoun the Author 


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