Johnny always says, "Mia, you're so young." Sometimes that's a compliment... sometimes it's probably not.
Even though I'm young, here's a bit of wisdom I've gathered from experience and conversation.
A few things that I think:
1. Everyone should make friends with a mortician.
Why do I say this?
One of my dad's close friends was a mortician and my dad hung out at his funeral home often. The hospital asks who you would like to take the body away, and my mom requested my dad's friend. It was easier to leave my dad in the hands of someone we knew, not a total stranger. It made it more personal and special. We were also able to spend several hours with him a few days before the funeral with no one else around.
2. "How to plan a funeral" should be taught in schools. It really should.
When it comes down to it, the time of planning a funeral is very stressful and emotional. It would be so nice to know all the steps to take before it's ever a worry, when it's a very distant event. I want to teach my children when they are teenagers how to do it, so it's in the storage of their minds if it's necessary.
3. Follow your senses.
There were several times I had a feeling I should spend more time with my dad or go talk to him, call him. And I didn't. I had those senses for a reason, and I should have acted on them more. Don't ignore the little voices in your head telling you to check in on people or talk to your family. Say "I love you" every time you feel it.
4. Don't be afraid of death.
Something I wish I would have ignored was my fear of death. My dad was in such bad shape towards the end, that it scared me to be around him. That's one of my biggest regrets. I would drive my dad to his chemotherapy appointments and sometimes I would just leave him there and go out shopping or be by myself when I should have stayed with him. There were times my mom would ask me to make him lunch and I would quickly make a sandwich, give it to him, and leave. I wouldn't sit with him as long, because I didn't always know what to say. There were times he would say, "Mia, I don't know if I'll make it much longer." I would say, "You'll be just fine dad. You're gonna get better." Then I would leave and shut it out of my mind.
But all my dad wanted was to be with me. He wanted us all close to him, and it still haunts me and makes me cry that I ignored that. Don't be afraid, just spend the time you have left. If you don't, I can promise you will regret it. I feel so much guilt and anger towards myself for that, and I would never wish it on anyone.
(To be continued)