By Whitney....
When I had the idea for this blog, I discussed it with only one close friend and then only after the decision to go public had been made. While I didn't know where it might lead, I knew that I had a few goals I wanted to accomplish: I desired to do something to help others, to share Daddy's writings and give him a voice, and to listen and understand how other people's perceptions of incidents affected their emotions and lives. I wanted a forum where people could be honest without fear, accepted as they are, and understood without judgement. Due to the battles in our childhoods and the depth of hurt that will always live deep down in our hearts, I also vowed to respect the privacy of other family members by not publishing their names. Only Stormi and I would be public. With that said, I have been reminded that I was remiss in not letting you know that I have another sister. My big sister, Shannon is nine years older than me, and 26 years older than Stormi. Shannon and I share the same mother and different fathers, although my Daddy raised her from the time she was two years old. I was 10 when I found out that she was not my full biological sister; this fact rocked my world. Shannon's father was not part of her life and had, in fact, been married more times after our mother divorced him and had several other children. Shannon saw him off and on during her adult years. Sadly, he passed away the same year Daddy did. I asked Shannon to write her version of her feelings the night Daddy died. This is is her story.....
By Shannon......
I am the adult child of an alcoholic. Fortunately, I have been able to forgive the things that caused some rough times in my life and come to grips with my emotions. I try to concentrate on the good memories.
I will never forget the night we got the news that Daddy had died. We were celebrating my nephew's birthday at a local restaurant, just about to have cake. My sister, Whitney, returned from the restroom with a look of utter shock on her face. As she came closer, I could see she was trembling. When I asked her what was wrong, she whispered, "He's gone. Daddy is dead." I tried to console her, but she turned me away. She was trying so hard to hold it together. I knew I had to be strong for her, so I held back my tears.
The following days were very hard for me. Everyone was comforting and consoling Whitney, with no thought that I had lost my Daddy, too. Even though he was my step-father, he had raised me from the age of two, and I was also grieving. I cried myself to sleep several nights over the next few weeks.
I am thankful that I had talked to him just the week before, but also remorseful. He had asked me to come to see him in Oklahoma. Now I am left wondering what if I had made that trip? Would he still be with us? What if.....?
When I had the idea for this blog, I discussed it with only one close friend and then only after the decision to go public had been made. While I didn't know where it might lead, I knew that I had a few goals I wanted to accomplish: I desired to do something to help others, to share Daddy's writings and give him a voice, and to listen and understand how other people's perceptions of incidents affected their emotions and lives. I wanted a forum where people could be honest without fear, accepted as they are, and understood without judgement. Due to the battles in our childhoods and the depth of hurt that will always live deep down in our hearts, I also vowed to respect the privacy of other family members by not publishing their names. Only Stormi and I would be public. With that said, I have been reminded that I was remiss in not letting you know that I have another sister. My big sister, Shannon is nine years older than me, and 26 years older than Stormi. Shannon and I share the same mother and different fathers, although my Daddy raised her from the time she was two years old. I was 10 when I found out that she was not my full biological sister; this fact rocked my world. Shannon's father was not part of her life and had, in fact, been married more times after our mother divorced him and had several other children. Shannon saw him off and on during her adult years. Sadly, he passed away the same year Daddy did. I asked Shannon to write her version of her feelings the night Daddy died. This is is her story.....
By Shannon......
I am the adult child of an alcoholic. Fortunately, I have been able to forgive the things that caused some rough times in my life and come to grips with my emotions. I try to concentrate on the good memories.
I will never forget the night we got the news that Daddy had died. We were celebrating my nephew's birthday at a local restaurant, just about to have cake. My sister, Whitney, returned from the restroom with a look of utter shock on her face. As she came closer, I could see she was trembling. When I asked her what was wrong, she whispered, "He's gone. Daddy is dead." I tried to console her, but she turned me away. She was trying so hard to hold it together. I knew I had to be strong for her, so I held back my tears.
The following days were very hard for me. Everyone was comforting and consoling Whitney, with no thought that I had lost my Daddy, too. Even though he was my step-father, he had raised me from the age of two, and I was also grieving. I cried myself to sleep several nights over the next few weeks.
I am thankful that I had talked to him just the week before, but also remorseful. He had asked me to come to see him in Oklahoma. Now I am left wondering what if I had made that trip? Would he still be with us? What if.....?