Every Day is Father's Day

I have been lacking motivation lately.  I have fallen into this very comfortable phase of good days and bad days and merely just surviving them and the inconsistency of them. Just getting up, fingers crossed, that that day would be one of the good ones. The ones where I cook dinner for the boyfriend and I, we watch tv and movies together and laugh all night.  The ones where I get to spend time with old friends and remember when times were easier and every day didn't feel like a crap-shoot.  Then there are the other days where you really can't even gauge if you are doing anything right. You are underwhelmed with work, and balancing relationships with 4 family members who's worlds all just got rocked just as hard as yours. And every thought of sadness you feel or anger that creeps in, you question whether is a result of those things being true, or the product of having to say goodbye to the most important man you've ever had in your life.

I don't want to be the writer that used to write about relationships and sex, and now just writes sad things about not having a dad anymore.  But losing him is the underlying theme to every good day and every bad day equally.  When things are good, I know he would be so happy of me finding a way to be happy when my heart is so heavy.  And on the bad days, not only feeling I am failing at the finding happy part, but I don't have him there just to have a bad day with.

I don't want to sit down and write about how much I miss him. How many thoughts in every day are dedicated to remembering his greatest one-liners and some of the more raw moments where he helped me out of dark places - at both young and adult ages.  Sometimes they are stories that make me laugh so hard, and then I just want to tell everyone about them. I just want to talk about my dad all day.  Way more than even the most concerned friend is going to want to hear about.  And then the sad days I don't want to talk about him at all because then I feel like every other feeling of sadness, anger, and disappointment is negated by me still clearly grieving his loss.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I don't know how to be Katie Keller without dad yet. Without David Keller - the smart, funny, honest, very very forgiving man.  And until I know how to be me without him, I don't know how much motivation I can muster up beyond the simplest of getting up and doing it again until I figure out who that person is. I do hope that when I do figure her out, she has a little more perspective, a very strong conscience on her shoulder as a result of her undying need to want him to be proud of her, and that's she's just a little bit stronger so that she can figure out what her next chapters will be about.