When someone dies, someone you are close to, your world changes. I thought I was prepared, I mean my dad had experienced heart attacks before, we had talked about where his will was located, what his wishes were, we knew. My brother and I knew everything we needed to. Didn’t we?
There was some things my dad didn’t tell me before he left me for his eternity, some things I wish I had known, or thought to ask. Here is a small glimpse into conversations I wish we had taken time to have:
The money talk.
My dad had numerous conversations with me about money, but they all went like this:
Dad – Nik, you need to stop spending and start saving
Me – ya ya, I will
Dad – How come your VISA bill is so high, what are you spending your money on?
Me – ya ya I will…wait what?
Clearly I never spent the time to listen to him, or discuss with him anything financial. I was fortunate to live rent free, have only my bills to cover and because I have a good job, I never had to save or budget or learn about RRSP’s, Mutual funds, TFSA’s, Stocks or any other financial term. I never had to understand mortgages or loans or interest percentage rates. Essentially, my dad being so gracious and spoiling me in this sense screwed me over the moment he passed. I have no clue what I am doing now. I have the bank guy throwing a lot of verbal diarrhea my way, confusing me left right and centre, I have friends giving me their advice and all I really want is to sit down with my dad and say – HEY! Tell me why I should or shouldn’t get __A__, __B__ and __C__. I know he would explain it to me in idiot terms because I suck with technical jargon and he knows this! I would be able to walk into any bank and say, do this, this and this and that’s all – confidently, unwavering. Instead I walk in, sweating, terrified the big scary bank guy is going to take all my money and I end up with nothing!
The “you’re going to miss me when I’m gone talk”
Okay so he said this NUMEROUS times to me. Usually when I was annoyed at him for one reason or another, or when I was going out with friends and he wanted me to stay home. However, we never really actually talked about this. How serious this hurt was going to feel. He lost his father when he was older so maybe he didn’t realize, but damn, it hurts so much – daily – I can’t describe it. We didn’t talk about how to make the pain go away. We didn’t talk about things I should or could do to honor him and keep him happy while he’s watching me from above (I’m pretty sure getting a dog was NOT on his list).
The “car” conversation
My father bought a brand new car with cash every three years for as long as I can remember. He was fortunate to live a lifestyle and have a job that afforded him that luxury. I am not anywhere near that situation so my car is almost 4 years old and I am not able to buy a new one. I wouldn’t want to. I love my car. However I worry that my mechanic (car dealership) is screwing me over because I am a woman and clearly know diddly squat about cars. (It’s also possible they aren’t and I am not for a moment accusing them of wrongdoing) I don’t even know if my dad knew anything. He never needed to, but I feel like a father should teach his daughter how not to get fucked over by a guy needing to increase company profits! How often should my brake pads be changed? When do I start to worry about my filter being too dirty not to change? How do I check my oil? All of these questions I never asked, because I knew I could call my dad up and he would give me his opinion (which 9 times out of 10) I took.
I know my dad wanted me to have a baby, a little Khloe or Kristopher (or twins as that was his favorite joke to make), but we didn’t talk about my future goals, what I should or shouldn’t work for. What are the most important lessons to teach Koko, what he wants me to teach my child about him and our family history? How did he get me through the teenage years and how am I going to possibly get my child through the teenage years because my patience is nil for stupidness and teenagers are stupid by nature!!!!
Here is my advice to all of you, talk with your elders, write notes, and create a diary, a timeline – something. I didn’t. There are so many questions and concerns I have now as a woman trying to navigate my way around this big scary world and I am not quite sure how to do it. You always think there will be more time. Granted, my father’s passing came as a shock, he was fine (for him) and we weren’t expecting him not to wake up that morning, but still…I wish I had taken more time.
Six months later, half a year of my life living without his constant guidance and support I feel like I am doing “okay”, but I am frustrated and freaked out half my days.
I guess in short – I miss him. I wish I had more time.