Daddy

Today marks the 3 year anniversary of my Dad's passing.  I think about him....about his life, who he was.  I think about the stories, about the fact that one never felt like they completely knew him or what was going on in that head of his.  Every once in awhile, I will just remember some random conversation....or a memory of him will pop up out of nowhere.  I remember the good times...but also the struggles....  

He was one of a kind that's for sure, and we have the stories to prove it.   I've been thinking about his life...and how so often we expect our parents to be perfect...like a TV parent...and we sometimes forget that they have hopes and dreams and worries and disappointments.  As a parent, I know that now.

I so often think about the end...about how his last months were spent in rehab centers, assistive living centers, nursing homes....and how he just wanted to be home.  He had a little dementia going on at the end...and I remember that too...how past and present and future and reality and dreams and fears all came together to form some pretty crazy conversations....with me always trying in vain, to help him see reality.  

I remember that last week....when we just sat with him and waited.....and waited...trying to figure out what to do with our lives...stay and wait....go back to work?  I remember the beginning when we could talk to him, recall memories together...and I remember quiet times, times that were in some way comforting.....just spent by Dad's bedside with my brothers.  I knew this wasn't living.  I knew that it was his time to go. It still didn't make it any easier.  

Dad was never one for saying I love you...and he could be mighty cranky....but he was always there, and showed us in other ways...and so that too is how we said goodbye....we were there.  My dad was always very frugal...never liked to part with a buck as they say.  My brother told a story at his funeral....of when he sat with him at the end and Dad muttered something...and I wish I could remember the exact words, and I am almost tempted to call my brother right now and ask him.   My brother's interpretation was that Dad was saying that all he had as he left this life was himself...he couldn't take anything with him that he had treasured on earth...and he went on further to say that it reminded him, that our earthly possessions, our car, our home, our bank account...none of that defines us.  None of that speaks to who we are....to our value in this world.  

As my dad passed, we were there until the end...and I think that's all you can take with you in the end.....is the love of those dear to you.

And it's so hard to believe....that this man, who I sometimes took for granted, sometimes became exasperated with, sometimes laughed with, sometimes got angry with...but who was such a huge part of my life....my dad...has been gone for 3 years.  I joke with my family that I am raising my dad...because there are many uncanny similarities between my son and my dad.  And sometimes that fact is maddening. But I look at my son, and his sisters and cousins...and I see the little pieces of Dad in them....and in myself and my brothers...and I know he will live on in all of us in some way.

He will live on in the stories and the memories.....and he will live on in my heart....and sometimes that means I will shed a tear on his behalf...and sometimes... I will  remember him with laughter.

“That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.” 

~ Sarah Dessen