Life goes on

I’ve been meaning to tell you about my life on the farm. About my daily chores taking care of alpacas, training guinea pigs (yes, I have been training them to recognize me), building a new home for the bunnies… I’ve even logged into my blog several times. And then stopped. Suddenly it all feels empty. Irrelevant.

My dad died couple weeks ago. Well, his body finally gave in. We lost him a long time ago.
He was an alcoholic. He was very unhappy for the last years of his life. Very lonely and depressed. But refused any kind of help. He had lost everything because of drinking yet thought that the bottle was his only friend.

He didn’t see any opportunities in the future. Just his own failures. He wanted to kill himself but couldn’t. Not directly anyway, heavy drinking was his choice to get the same result. It worked.

The last time I saw him, he told me how, as a young man, he had a chance to work in India but was eventually considered too young for a long trip like that. He felt that it had been a turning point in his life that could have changed his whole life.

Everytime I told him that he could still choose a different path he said it was too late.
Like that trip to India, dad didn’t seem to believe that you can make a difference in the present moment. He lived in the past. Why, I will never know.
Is it something one is raised to? Raised to believe that you have no power over your own life. Do you start to believe your own worthlessness, if people around you seem to think so?
Or was it alcohol, whispering in his ear that it’s all lost. I don’t know. I’ve never had an addiction. I only know the effects it has on people around you.

None of this really even matters, I know this is better. He is in peace now. He doesn’t have to suffer any more. I’m not sad that he is dead. I’m sad because of everything he missed out.

Everytime I walk to my cottage after work admiring the amazing view all around me, I think how he could have done the same. How he would have loved to travel. I can hear his voice saying ”one beer please”. See, I can speak English, he once said smiling and winking. When I’m having a dinner with my love, I think how he would have deserved the same. When I say ”I love you” I wish he felt love too.

I don’t miss my dad when I think about the fact that he’s not here anymore. I don’t cry because he’s dead. 
I miss the person he used to be, the way I remember him. Always smiling, making jokes. I feel sadness everytime I’m happy because he was so unhappy. Somehow I feel guilty yet at the same time I feel that I now need to live for the both of us.

I know there’s nothing I could have done for him. He was given a chance many times. But you can’t force someone to quit drinking.
You can offer a reason not to drink but he needs to take it. You can’t force the bottle down. Unfortunately. I would have. I would have done anything to give him a little bit of hope. But there was none to give. Not in his life. And it breaks my heart.

But life needs to go on. And in time I will stop feeling sad for him. But until then there’s a little bit of sadness in my happiness.

P.S. For some reason it felt right to write this in English. It’s not perfect, I know, try to bear.