Friday, December 21, 2018

2018


It’s been quite the year.  In terms of work, I’ve released four books and a few blog projects.

*Doomsday Think Tank - March 4th - a play featuring conspiracy theorists discussing What Ifs.
*Duo de Macabre - April 6th - a repackaging if my two horror anthologies Sharp Items & Bad Intentions and Beyond the Wall.
*How to Sell Sunblock to a Vampire - April 29th - a writing collection featuring poems, short stories, scripts and more.
*Blue Sweep - August 1st - my second novel tackles police brutality and the revolution of the people. 
For this blog
*Rock N Roll Zombies - September 15th - a horror/comedy short story about music fans finally getting to see their favorite band.
*The House That Fed - October 31st - this horror story/novella started as a screenplay that wasn’t working so I adapted it.
*InfomercialHead - November 30th - another story/novella that started as a screenplay. A bit of a psychological drama.

Despite not being able to attract readers I keep writing. My health has been up and down and my career is still at the ground floor, but none of this mattered as of August 21st when my father was found dead in his home. He had passed away in his sleep. Less than a year ago we almost lost him to congestive heart failure. His health has been rough to say the least and his body finally gave out. I miss him every day. Losing him was like losing a limb. I shut down and, in some respects, I still am. I had forgotten how to function normally, like something was missing; like I said, like missing a limb. A part of me is gone. I can’t read or watch TV without wanting to text him or call him. 
The last time I saw him my wife and I were at a Chinese restaurant when he and his friend (the one who found him that fateful morning) walked in. The last time I saw him I hugged him and told him I loved him. Amidst my struggle in dealing with his passing I’ve been dealing with the idea that I took advantage of the thought that he’d always be around. I mean, I knew I’d lose him but I wasn’t prepared for how soon. I guess one never is prepared. I miss him terribly and I wish he was here. It’s the smallest things that make me think of him; a bad horror movie, something in the news, cooking a meal. I can’t see or write the word Baseball without thinking of him. He’s always with me but he’ll never be with me again. For months after, every time I’d hear a vehicle I expected him to pull up in his truck. 
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to write was his obituary, and I keep that in mind whenever I’m stressed over a project. Death and loss put things into perspective. Life is short. Dad was 63 years old and he went to sleep and never woke up. Tomorrow isn’t promised. Someone somewhere is losing someone every day and their lives are altered. You never know when the next time you talk to someone is going to be the last time, what will you say?
I live with a lot of regrets. I keep thinking of all the things I should’ve said and done. There’s a torn mix of knowing he’s gone and not believing or remembering he’s gone until I try to reach out and am reminded.
We cleaned his place out and it was like an out of body experience. I didn’t want anything from the house and I told my wife that. Nothing of his was really going to help or hold the memories that I already have of him. We have his dog Tinker and, probably because I look so much like dad, he’s extremely attached to me. I love this dog but I fear the day I lose him too as he’s very old. There’s been a lot of conflicting emotions since he’s been gone. We held a celebration for him at the park where friends and family showed up to show their love and support and share memories. I regret not being able to spend more time with everyone there, it was a hard day. There’s been a lot of hard days.
I want him back but I know that’s selfish. He’s no longer hurting or depressed or stressed or lonely. I would love to say that I’m thankful he went in his sleep but in reality it doesn’t help. He’s still gone regardless of how he went. Now all we have are memories but in the end that’s all we’ll have of each other. 
Make memories, love one another, and reach out when the feeling hits you, because we never know when we won’t be able to.

That’s enough for now. I gotta get back to work.

Much love to you all.

No comments:

Post a Comment