April 10, 2023 - TWENTY YEARS!

 “Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, 

and morning seemed light-years away.” – Andre Aciman

TWENTY YEARS?  Two decades?  I sit here and wonder…HOW?   Wasn’t it just yesterday?...because the pain is still so fresh.  But wasn’t it forever ago?...because it seems like a 100 years since I’ve heard your laugh or seen your smile?

I’ve felt rather morose for a few months now, knowing today was peeking up over the horizon at me in 2023.  It has weighed heavily on me.  I’ve spent so much time of late, wondering if is morbid to memorialize the day we lost you – or even disrespectful to invest so much emotion in remembrance of the last moments we had with you.  Maybe it is more appropriate to remain taciturn, or better yet maybe simply let the day pass with no mention of the sadness it evokes.  But somehow, that hurts worse. 

Oh, Dad!  I miss you so much.

You were a big presence and a big energy.  You laughed big, you loved big, you lived big.  And rightfully so, when you left, the hole in our hearts and in our lives was and remains BIG. 

I don’t recall much from your actual funeral.  It’s a little blurry in my mind.  But I do recall thinking it was impossible to even imagine moving forward knowing you wouldn’t be there.  The reality of losing you was in stark contrast to what my life had been and what I envisioned my life to be.  You were so many things to me…

You were my rock of self-confidence.  You held your head high and stood by your convictions.  And then you stood by my convictions as I learned to trust my instincts and conscience.  I learned to trust myself by watching you live your life confidently. I also learned to be comfortable in my unique self because you encouraged, championed and loved my individuality.

You were my measuring stick and touchstone.  You always made your expectations (and the reasons for them) clear.  Not that I ever did what I was told, but you created a standard I could use to guide my own decisions by.  Maybe because I was as fiery and stubborn as you were, (chip off the ol’ block), but you knew how to reach me and speak to me in a way that resonated. 

You were my sounding board.  I could talk anything through with you.  You always seemed to know the right questions to ask to help me unravel my own thoughts or to see beyond my own blocks. 

You were my shelter.  I never doubted that I would always have a safe place to return to.  I undoubtedly knew that without even asking you would defend, protect, shield, support, guard and fight for me.  You were forever my safe place. 

A path forward without you seemed improbable.  Not only improbable, but impossible.  I couldn’t fathom it.  People said things like, “time gets rid of the pain,” and “life will go on,” and if I could have fire-blasted them into the ground with my eyes alone, there would have been a fair number of “country fried” people in my life. 

(PSA:  In case don’t know this or it wasn’t clear, statements like those noted above are not helpful, nor do they bring comfort to those who have lost someone.  Just don’t say them.  I will fight the person that says “time gets rid of the pain” …that is simply not true.  The pain of losing someone that you truly love does not go away in this life.)

But do you know what is worse?  Do you know what really hurts?  Do you know what is really shitty about the statement “life goes on?”  It does.  Damn it all if life doesn’t just keep going.  No matter how difficult it is to imagine, or how much you want it to just stop…Life goes on.

And here I am… 20 years down the road.  Once again, I find my heart breaking as I think back over the years and recall the big moments and a million small moments that you’ve missed.  And in this pain, I have fear.  I fear that I will forget the sound of your laugh.  I fear I will forget the feel of you hugs.  I fear I will forget the pink of your cheeks.  I fear I will forget. 

But then I think about the impact that you still have on my life.  I find self-confidence because of you.  I strive to grow and be a better human because of you.  And I have Doug because of you.  You taught were a good example of the kind of partner I should expect.  You would love him, Dad.  He is kind, funny, thoughtful and adventurous.  He takes my shit …but only to a point and then expects more from me.  He challenges me.  He supports me.  He encourages me to grow and wants to grow with me.  And he is my safe place.

You are still so important in my life Dad.  I miss you EVERY.DAY.  The hole in my heart without you is forever a place only for you.  And despite the hurt, it does more than just make me sad.  It reminds me of all the wonderful things that you were. It makes me want to be a better person.  It makes me understand and appreciate the here and now that I have been gifted.  It reminds me to not take time for granted.  It reminds me to be joyful.  It reminds me to love big. 

So today, as I cry for the time I didn’t get to have with you, I also feel so grateful that I had you at all and that I got to know your special kind of love.  A love that I’ve carried with me for 48 years in this life and will carry with me always. 

I love and miss you so very much, Dad.