August 31, 1998 was my first day of eighth grade. It was a half day of school, and when I got home, my mom was waiting for me on the front porch. She asked me how my day went and then she said she was sorry…and I knew. I knew that my dad had died.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, today is a good day for you to read my very best article. Writing it was hard; sharing it on my blog was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I rarely talk about this loss because it’s not a frequent source of pain or a notable absence. But it is worth mentioning, because it’s a part of my life and part of who I am. I’m half-black and a half-orphan. I’ve owned it.
This is also why I get pissed when people are pessimists. Like, really? Your life is so hard? Ummm, fuck you. No, life isn’t perfect all the time. It’s hard and sad and bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it. But that’s why I laugh as much as I can and don’t take things too seriously — if I lived in a shadow of grief and let myself be defined by tragedy, I would never get out of bed in the morning.
Today just reminded me that I have a very good reason to be a pessimist…and I’m not one. And if anyone is reading this blog and yet somehow still on Team Eeyore, I thought I should remind you as well. I’m real, and I feel pain, and yet I still think life is awesome. I hope you will too!