Friday, October 22, 2010

My Dad

Today would have been his 63rd birthday. For anyone who doesn't know, he passed away on May 9th of this year. My 29th birthday.

I've thought of him every day since. Some days more than others. But every day.

I still can't bare to erase his number from my phone, or his email from my contacts.

There seems to suddenly be unlimited reasons to call him, or email him--- stories to tell him, questions to ask him... even if it's just because I know it would make him feel good... he liked to share his opinion. :)

I'm pretty sure I think of him more now than I did when he was here with us, which makes me sad.

Every time I see a man about his age, bouncing around in this life, without a care, I feel cheated. Especially when I see one who's loud and barrel chested and confident, like my dad. Somehow they're still invincible, like he always was.

Every time I see a little, old, fragile grandpa, I feel cheated for my kids. They were supposed to know him--- good and bad, and watch him get old and kooky. And gain that much more insight into where they came from-- and that much more perspective on people. They were supposed to hear all the stories I heard, but all the more exaggerated with time and age.

I think of how PROUD my dad was of everything good that I did, and everything good that my children did. And as I watch them grow-- even a day at a time-- I realize that we were just barely getting started. It almost kills me that he can't read or hear the things they say and do these days. I just hope he's allowed glimpses sometimes.

Sophia still prays almost every night, that Grandpa Randy will be safe in heaven. With the seal.

I wonder what he's doing. I've never felt so tangled up in thoughts about the afterlife as I have after my dad's passing. I just hope he's happy and reunited with family, and that he knows how much he's missed. And that his regrets are few with his new perspective.

I did Body Pump the other day and there was a white-haired gentleman right behind me. He got to out-lift most of the class (since he was one of 2 men there), and I found myself distracted and choked up a couple of times if I let my mind wander. It's just such a strange thing--- that he could be healthy and happy and ALL things that represent my dad.... in all of his strength and charisma and intensity... and that in 8 short weeks all of those same things could be sucked out of him, leaving him so empty that the fight had to end.

I meant to write more positively... but he's been on my mind so much lately... and today I just really really miss him--- and wish he could have celebrated so many more birthdays.

Love you dad.


aapuzzanchera said...

I just recently lost my father on October 1, and his birthday was October 19. He would have been 66. I relate to so much of what you shared. Now more then ever I feel like i have so much to say to him. Why is that? I started a private blog just for my family for us to go and write to him. It actually makes me feel better and like he can see/hear my thoughts. It's still so fresh for me, I still think he is in the hospital and I constantly have to remind myself that he isn't here with us anymore. It's so surreal. I am jealous of you though... my father didn't get to walk me down the aisle and he won't be able to see me raise a family. I am sad for my future children that they won't get to know him.

I wish there was a way the grieving process would speed up. I can't stand not being able to face the reality and move on. I understand that it's a process, I am just impatient, much like he was!

I know though, that is watching over me and he knows that I love and miss him everyday and that I am going to do my best to make him proud of me! Thank you for sharing something so personal! Take care.

Jenie said...

I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my really are amazing with words and I can totally relate to everything that you said. Even after almost 16years, I still feel this same way. I'm so sorry that your dad's gone. I'm sure he's close, especially on days like this. I count on that...there are just those days when I really need my mom and I sure wish we could do a face-to-face every once in a while. :) I know they're watching out for us but some days that just isn't enough. I hope you know how much you're loved and how many people around you love you! Thank you for summing up how I feel so much of the time and for giving me a good cry....I've needed it! Love you!

Sarie said...

I am a little teary eyed. I'm so glad you shared this. I think about your dad almost every time I look at your blog. I always wonder how you're doing, I always wonder if you're having a bad day where you miss him terribly. It could so easily have been me in your shoes... so easily, and I think about that a lot. How quickly life can change.

Wishing you peace and some good, clear answers.

Hope you have a good day.

Lindsay Griffeth said...

I wasn't ready for that tear jerker on a Friday afternoon. I love it when you write about your dad. He's definitely watching you with a big smile on his face.

Rachelle said...

It's true what they say...that time can heal the deepest wounds. But what people don't realize, unless they've been through "it", is that while wounds heal...the void that's left when a loved one is lost never does. They're irreplaceable. That's why they were so dear to us in the first place.
So Lil, let yourself see him in strangers faces, in your children's eyes, in your own hands as they get older, and as painful as it may be will cherish those moments of being reminded of how alive, in you and around you and because of you, he really is.
I love you!

Home Is Where the Hart Is said...

I'm behind (obviously) and catching up on some back reading. I've followed your blog for a long time but never commented before. Anyway, I remembered this post and wanted to go back and find it. It was so beautifully written. Thank you for sharing. And I'm so so so sorry for your loss.
On a more positive note, you and your family are beautiful and I have so enjoyed keeping up with you!