Hey Daddy

Letter 16

Hey Daddy, 

It's now been a week since Zak's been gone. It sucks. Big time. I've numbed myself to the feelings I'm meant to be feeling. I've numbed myself to remembering the good times I had with him, and you. I suppose I should've written this letter a week ago, but I just couldn't get my head around it. I still can't. 

I feel unsafe in my house now. I feel like someone's going to break in, now they know that we don't have the dog anymore. I feel like someone's going to try and hurt us now, that we don't have Zak. And it's making my anxiety go through the roof. 

I'm currently the only one awake. Craig's off out, and mum's in her bed. Don't blame her though, she's barely slept since you've gone, dad, and now that Zak's gone, she feels like she's lost two very important parts of her. I feel the same, but mine don't seem as important as mum though. you bought Zak for her, I was just the product of love, really. Funny thing is, I was 12 when we bought Zak. 6 weeks old he was when he came home. It seems that long ago, I know, but, I still feel like that 12-year-old, going up in the car with Sanny and his son, with mum and you. I still remember that day, like it's enclosed right in my memory as a stand out one. I remember Zak's mum making mum lose a full packet of cigarettes, and then us taking the wrong way out and getting lost. I also remember Zak and Rusty not getting on, because they were both vying for Midnight's attention. God, there's been so many happy memories including you and Zak. But, it's just not the memories of Zak that's in there, there's ones of me cradling Sheba's puppies and actually singing "puppy love" to them. There's ones of Major nipping me because I tried to take the frying pan away from him. There's ones of Lady, Sam, Buster, Brandy, even King, although we lost him after a few days because someone left the door open. 

Having no dogs, just Cleo, it's weird and scary. Weird because I've always had dogs in my life whenever we've lost one. Scary because I don't have a dog to make me feel safe. I guess I'm just used to having dogs in my life. 

I haven't cried yet, dad. Even as I write this letter, I can't bring myself to cry. I don't know why. I know I'm not immune to feeling things like this. Especially since I cried on the Tuesday before we had to put Zak to sleep. I just don't know why I haven't cried. It's horrid trying to live without you here. I've lived with it for two and a half years, but it's horrid. I just hate things like this. It was horrid when Aunt Ann died, and I felt like part of me had gone then, but it now feels like every piece of me has left my soul. I have no idea how I'm going to be when gran or mum goes. 

Speaking of gran, she has the same as what you had. Cellulitis in her left leg. Except, hers hasn't came to be blisters like yours was. The doctors at the hospital can't find anything wrong, all they keep doing is taking her in for a few days and then sending her home, none of the wiser as to what's wrong. I wish they'd help her, you know? Like they were trying to help you. Well, they did until that one who denied you the blood test. That's another thing that's etched into my mind. But, you know this. I just wish I could've fought for you to get that blood test, and maybe you'd be here still. But, I can't rewind back two years. I wish I could but I can't. 

I'm sorry, 

Marriann xx