January 1st, 2026
It’s the new year. The first calendar year without my father, officially. He died about 2 months ago. Car crash. Random, seemingly. They don’t have any test results back yet. No other car was involved, they told me. Over and over again they told me.
Since it was so random and he was young and in good health (he was 57), he didn’t have his affairs in order. No will, no testament, no wishes. So my sisters and I are figuring it out. I was appointed representative of his estate, so a lot of the responsibility falls onto my shoulders.
To keep myself sane during this time, and just a way to channel and funnel my thoughts and ideas, I decided to start writing and make this blog to capture it.
I feel directionless. Like as if I’m just rooted until I figure this all out. My life had felt directionless before, but now it feels ruptured. This rupture makes me feel like change should come at this point, that I should move across the country or I should make some style of grand escalation in the story of my life. But not until I figure out his estate. This final task I have to do for him.
They don’t tell you when someone dies you have to do so many quests. Calling and going into banks, meeting with funeral directors, meeting with lawyers, digging through papers and bills and receipts. It feels endless at times. And because I’m doing detective work about my dad, because I’m trying to backwards build aspects of this last chapter of his life so I can sort his affairs, it feels like his spirit is still there. His personal story on this earth isn’t over, of course, because I am trying to help him finish it. No matter how random his death seemed to be.
But it does keep creeping into my mind, what will I do after? My job feels dead end, although I enjoy many of my coworkers. The city I’m in feels decayed and rotted compared to how it was when I moved here when I was 18. Cost of living has only gone up. I read and watch too much about the ways other people decide to live. Backpackers, writers, trainhoppers, hikers, monks, all are existing ways people do live, yet I work in an office doing a task a robot could do.
After he died I found out from my dad’s older cousin (who’s basically an aunt) that my dad at one point when he was younger had a grand dream of dropping everything and joining a Jesuit order in South America. It does feel like I’m the right person to sort his affairs.
I probably won’t write here every day, but I will try to do it as often as I can remember. I’ll write about whatever I’m thinking about. Sometimes personal, sometimes just what’s on my mind.
Love.
