I remember I had to go to work and fake the day as best I could. I kept thinking, 'this can't be real'. And I was doing a pretty good job of it until I had to call my brother and tell him. The words I had to say felt like daggers in my throat. I knew that though out of my control, I was about to devastate ther person I loved the most. As soon as he answered my burst into tears because I knew the pain he was about to feel... the same raw feeling I had felt all morning. I hated myself for having to tell him, but I knew I couldn't let anybody else do it. it had to be me. We cried on the phone together without saying anything.
Three years later, the pain is still there. It seems to be a little more peaceful of a pain than at first, if that makes any sense at all. When I think about my dad, I still cry. I have a picture of him on my desk, and there are days I have to cover it up. And yet, I can't bear to move it.
My dad had a rough life. Those of us who knew him realize most of that was by his own choice. But somehow, when it's somebody you love so much, it's not about pointing fingers or the 'why' behind the result. It's the sympathy and heart felt grief that shows through. Some of his not-so-good choices affected my life in huge ways, but I can see how God has used them to make me who I am. I tried to tell my dad that, but I don't know if he understood that I wasn't mad and that I didn't hold it against him. I think he carried a lot of guilt, and I hate that. But I guess I can't blame him. I know he loved me so much, and the thing is, I've never doubted that. Not even when he couldn't be around.
I have so many amazing memories, and I realize that's more than a lot of people get. I remember being all of about three or four, and we would eat artichokes together on the couch. I would sit on the arm of the couch next to him and he would show me how to eat them. Sometimes he would pretend to be asleep while us kids crawled up on his lap and we would try to touch his nose, and every single time we got close, his eyes would fly open and he would let out this sudden little growl that made us jump.. being so little, I was always amazed at how he could know when to do it. Of course, now I realize- being the clever individual that I am- his eyes probably weren't all the way closed. He also introduced us to 'the blanket game'. My brother knows what I'm talking about. We would lay in a ball in the middle of a blanket and he would tie all the corners up around us in knots and we had to try to get out. Thinking back, i realize that's kind of mean to do to little kids, but we loved it. I'm still not sure why. I was one of the few little girls who could say their daddy bought them a pony for their birthday. He showed up to my birhtdya party with so many presents, I couldnt' believe it. And then he also bought me a pony... lucky girl.
I take after my dad alot. And as I grow older, I see it more and more. One thing I got from him is my sense of humor.. and I suppose now is as good a time as ever to appologize for that. :) I have his quick wit and sarcasm.. again, sorry. I also think I got from him my desire to know anything and everything. Little useless pieces of information fascinate me. And he knew just about everything that everyone didn't care to know. I've never seen him not finish a crossowrd puzzle, and we all know how much useless information those things are full of. I also aquired the ability to exude confidence from him. He was always confident.. or at least he appeared to be, but if you asked him about it, he'd say, "I wasn't confident. I was scared shitless." And I can relate to that. One of my favorite things though, and something that I will always attribute to my father, is my passion for photography. He's the one that sold me on it. He took pictures of anything and everything, and they always astounded me. He had such an incredible eye. He also gave me my first real camera. It was a Canon T70. 35mm of course. I learned about appertures and shutter speeds from him. Sometimes when I'm out shooting, I can't help but wonder how my dad would have captured it.
I know that I'll miss him for the rest my life. And while that's so dooming, I'm so glad at the same time. I think missing someone is a great reflection of how much you loved them. And I love my dad with my whole heart.
I'll see him again. I know he's in heaven because I know he's forgiven. I also know that some people question and doubt that. But the bottom line is this; he had a relationship with the Lord, but he was a sinner, just like me.
my dad and me
my dad holding my brother, Evan, on the couch we ate artichokes on.
this is my dad and Evan
I miss this day
We love you dad. ♥
