Becoming Cinderella

Up until 3 weeks ago, I always closely identified  with Belle out of all the Disney princesses. While I might not be a "beauty," I am certainly what could be called a "funny girl." When I walked home from school in the eighth grade, I would read a book as I went. I have brown hair, and I married a man with longish sandy colored hair and blue eyes (but I wouldn't exactly call him a "Beast"). I am an only child, and I grew up living with just my dad.

But, you see, my dad died 3 weeks ago. One week after my beautiful wedding in Walt Disney World. The day I returned from my honeymoon.

Suddenly, I was thrown into a realm of which I knew nothing, and I still don't know how to process everything I have been feeling. People ask me "how I am doing" and if I am "okay," and while I appreciate their concern, I hate their questions: because the truth is, I am not okay, and I am unsure if I will ever be again. I am no longer the bookworm brunette who lives with her crazy dad. My crazy dad is gone, and I can't use a magical handheld mirror to see him again.

Instead, I have fashioned myself into a Cinderella of sorts: I have been lucky enough to marry my Prince Charming, but like her, my father died far before his time, and far too young. My dad was able to give me away at my wedding; hers, not so much. When I have moments of quiet, like when I walk my dog Smokey, I find myself wondering if she thought about her dad on her wedding day: in Disney's movie, we see her kiss the King on the forehead. Does she wish he were her own father?

And no, I don't have an Evil Stepmother: but I do have a mother who sent me a text message 15 hours before my ceremony telling me she decided to go to Chicago instead and she wouldn't be attending. So that must count for something.

I want to make this perfectly clear: I don't mean to trivialize my grief by relating it to a Disney movie. Disney is now inexplicably tied with my dad's death: The last time I saw him was at Walt Disney World, the day after my wedding (at a character breakfast with Mickey Mouse, no less). Disney World is now not only the place where I turned 21; the place where my husband asked me to marry me; and the place where we eventually said our "I do's," but also the place where I saw my daddy for the final time. It is a place full of memories, both bitter and sweet,  and I cannot mention my dad without tying it to Disney. (Of course, the irony is that my dad absolutely hated Walt Disney World... but more on that later.)

I have created this blog, then, not as an attention grab or a cry for attention, but as a way to develop and work through so many of my feelings that have arisen due to my dad's passing. I am awful at keeping a journal, but I have typically been better at keeping a blog. I hope this works, and I hope this helps.