A piece of my mind

I didn’t necessarily know my dad very well . But I had this sense that I just knew his whole life and what he did throughout it. I have little memories of him from my childhood that are scattered into bits and pieces like broken glass from a mirror I couldn’t see myself in. But I do have this one specific memory that’s stuck in my brain of the nickname ladybug. But I have also heard stories about him. It seems like I’ve heard thousands of those stories and they sort of make me feel like they’re my memories too! like if I was there seeing it all. I see People on Facebook posting things about him , And saying how they miss him and they hope that me and my brother are okay . But I’ve never met these people in my life so I scroll past and say aww . People usually ask me “do you want to talk about it?” . And I usually say that I don’t. And that’s because I’d rather not. even though of course I miss him And I wish that we had more time together. But talking about it actually makes me sort of uncomfortable. I’ve always liked to have my thoughts alone . I like to be alone and to think about things by myself. Me and my brother are the same way. I do appreciate the “it’s okay” or the “you’ll be okay” but I know that already . But it is a bit weird how people from my dad’s side sort of just walk into my life whenever they want without a warning that they even existed. I guess they could try now since I don’t remember from when I was younger. They don’t speak to me often but then they pop up and buy me gifts randomly. They stop again then re surface like and old picture memory in your camera roll and ask what you want for Christmas or your birthday. My birthday has always been the time where most people text me and give me gifts. I’m going to be 14 soon . That means it’s almost 9 years since i have lost my father. I was 5 . I think about how sad it is every now and then. So I’ll cry alone in my room late at night while my restless mom thinks I’m asleep, I don’t want to make her think somethings wrong so I lay down and “sleep” but really I’m Laying awake in my bed starring into the black whole that is just my ceiling in the dark . I’ve had about 3 or 2 dreams with my dad when I do sleep . That’s sort of it tho. I do hear my moms side of the family talk every while about how godly he was and how great he has was towards everyone. it’s always a different story from each person, Or a different point of view. I find it fascinating how many stories people can remember and tell me. People still ask me how I’m doing or how I’m dealing with it, And when friends ask me about my parents I tell them my father died and they say they’re sorry like it was they’re fault.But I do always politely say it’s fine. It really is tho, even though sometimes it feels unfair that my kids won’t have a grandfather, or that I won’t have him to walk me down the isle at my wedding when im grown, or that he will never be able to scare off my boyfriend’s and sometimes I feel like I’m not fine. don’t worry tho, dad’s little ladybug is okay.