I felt like the blog post said things I had only thought, things I wasn't sure if I was allowed to say out loud. I don't write blog posts often because I can't always get the words out that I want to say...but having that blog post bring uncomfortable feelings to the surface made me feel that writing my own words would be soothing.
"I mean, is it okay for me to still grieve like this? Hallmark didn’t make cards from complicated daughters like me for difficult fathers like you, so this pang in my heart is always such a source of conflict for me. I wonder if the person I miss even existed. Eight years is a long time. There’s a lot of room to fill there. I get scared that the person I remember is made up, that maybe all your nuances and quirks were things I blew out of proportion so I could have something to hold onto....When I try to pull you back into the focus of my mind’s eye, I wonder about so many things, you know? Dumb shit, like if you would have an iPhone or a Blackberry...And what you might have worn to my wedding, and if you would have insisted on a father daughter dance. And if yes, I wonder what we might have danced to."The above excerpt from the blog post made me feel like the author had looked inside my mind and taken out some of my thoughts. My dad and I didn't have the perfect relationship, so to be honest, sometimes I wonder if the memories I cherish are complete. Did I change them in mind at all in order to remember the father I want to? Do I make a bigger deal about the things I believe my dad passed on to me-- the importance of education, for example.
"You have no idea how often I wish you were around to talk to, Dad. Or maybe you do somehow. Maybe you’re up there watching me live, or maybe you’re nothing but scattered ashes....I don’t know how to think about any of it anymore, not like I used to. I’ve figured out that Death is so much more complex than heaven or hell or nothingness. After all this, I’m scared to be like you and I’m scared that if I’m not, I’ll lose you, and I’m scared to still love you and miss you in spite of everything that happened and today it feels really, really hard to breathe."Death is definitely complex. I want to believe that my dad is watching over me, seeing me as I grow into the woman, wife, and mother that I know he knew he'd become. However, I also feel silly when I say he is watching over me. But it easier than thinking my dad is gone forever.
This was my fourth Father's Day since my dad passed away. I felt like each one gets a little easier to get through, as I get a little stronger. However, this Father's Day was different. On this Father's Day I was less than four weeks to the due date of my first child....
I thought I would be fine, I thought it would be like the others-- I would miss him, I would hope that my friends posting Facebook statuses about their dads would realize how lucky they are to still have their dads in their lives. It was more than that, more than I was expecting...
My husband and I started the day by watching the Today show. They did a special, where the weekend hosts spoke about their fathers. One of the hosts had a dad who past away, and she began speaking of her father who died 6 weeks after her son was born and how glad she was her dad got to meet and hold her son. Immediately, several tears slid down my cheeks. I turned off the television. My husband simply said, "Is it the Father's day thing?" I only said, "yes," and he held me a little tighter.
I didn't want to hear about other people's fathers meeting their children. That won't happen for me.
It's something I hadn't really thought about....probably because I didn't want to. I've been happy about the fact that my dad met my husband. Maybe he didn't know that he would become my husband, but he knew him. And my husband knew my dad.
My dad might not have known that I would become a school counselor, but he knew I was about to graduate with two bachelor degrees and head to graduate school. He may not have known I would move to a new state and start my career, but he knew I was intelligent enough to be successful in life. I've accepted all these things, and learned to be okay with them.
But he won't know my children.
I've obviously known this, and accepted this as a fact in my life. And one day, I'll get to the point where I'm okay with it. People used to tell me that time would make it easier. After four and a half years, I still don't agree with that statement. I think time just makes it more real, more of a truth as my life keeps moving and changing.
Dad, I will share stories of you with my children. They will know of the man who raised me, and I will instill in them the things I am proud you taught me. And I will continue thinking you are watching over us. Drinking a beer to celebrate our life events and accomplishments, and drinking a beer when we are going through a rough time. In December, I will drink a beer to toast you and your life, and cherish the short time I got to spend with you. And on that day, I will hug my daughter a little tighter and hope she can feel you, and feel the love she would have received from her granddad.
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