It has been two years since we buried my dad. I have to say that I feel no less pain than I did that day. Sometimes the hurt is so debilitating that I have a hard time getting out of bed. It sneaks up on me. I try to be fine. I live life to the fullest for my kids. Each day I hope it gets better, and some days I think it is better…But then I see a grandpa watching his grandchildren at the park, or a family eating dinner together, or a couple in their mid-sixties holding hands. It creeps up on me. The pain is so intense that I feel like I am going to throw up or pass out or something.
My mom and I were talking this past weekend about how we don’t think it is going to be better. The pain is just always going to be there. We are just going to have to manage it better. I am not angry that my dad died. I am not jealous of other people whose dads are still living. I am just sad. I am so sad every time a monumental thing happens in my life and my dad is not there. Some days I wait for hours for a phone call that will never come again.
I had the best dad. I really did. He loved us so much, so hard, in such a genuine way. I didn’t just think of him as my father, but he really was one of my best friends. He only wanted the best for me and my brother. He expected a lot from us and we always wanted to make him proud. He loved to brag about us. He loved to share in every moment of our lives. He gave me so much and expected so little in return. I will never know anyone who will love me more than he did.
As I sit here two years later, I can’t even put into words my feelings. I am so angry that he will not be here for my babies. He would have loved being with them. When I close my eyes at night I sometimes see him and Megan and Tyler. His world would have been them. They would have wanted to be with him all the time. Just like I did.
When my dad was dying we spent a lot of time talking. He knew how much I loved him. I hope he knows that everything I do I still think about him.
I know today will be like an other day to most people. I know that few will call me, or wish me well, or ask me how I am doing. But for me, today will always be the day that I became a fatherless daughter. I joined an exclusive club that no one wants to be a part of. Two years ago today a part of me died as well.