3 years ago today, my father was taken from this earth unexpectedly at the age of 53. That day will hold vivid memories for the rest of my days. I was heartbroken, shocked, and in complete disbelief. I don't wish to recount the events of that day. I wish to forget, although the memories are dormant in the back of my mind, sometimes peeking to my thoughts. Instead, I would like to share with you all who my father was.
My father had a difficult life. Some of these difficulties were not in his control, others were. His father died at a young age. That, combined with other clumps of dust he had always kept under the rug, motivated him to drink, a lot. He spent many years drinking in excess, making it impossible for him to be a good father and husband. My parents separated after nearly 15 years of marriage, and I refused to see him, and hardly spoke to him for the next couple of years. Even when I was no longer on strike, I kept my father at an emotional distance. We fought a lot, and I constantly threatened to disappear from his life forever.
One day when I was 19 years old, everything changed. I was living in Phoenix, and my father was planning to pass through along with my brother for a vacation in California. He wanted to visit me for the day. We hadn't seen each other in almost 2 years, although we spoke over the phone once a week. Part of me was looking forward to his visit. At the same time, I was expecting arguments, him treating me like a 12 year old, and drinking. None of that happened. He was outgoing, sober, and treated me like an adult. We even had some very personal conversation, and I was sad to see him go. I hugged him goodbye, I hadn't hugged him voluntarily in many years.
From that moment on, we talked on the phone daily. He was still living in California, so we only saw each other once or twice a year, but we became very close. I was finally daddy's little girl, I always wanted that. I could confide in him, tell him I loved him, and share my hopes and dreams with him.
Christmas of 2008 was the last time I saw my father. He came to Arizona for Christmas. It was the best Christmas of my life. He and my mom laughed and enjoyed each other's company for the first time in years, which touched my heart. My dad hardly drank during his visit, and when he did he enjoyed a single beer and not a drop more. My dad gave my brother and I thoughtful gifts, and he completely doted on my brother's new girlfriend. When he left, I had never been more sad to see him go in my entire life.
I suppose most people in my position would be very angry. My father and I spent many years sharing a broken relationship, and after only a few years of having what I always dreamed, it was ripped away from me. I am not angry, I feel completely grateful. Yes, I only had a good relationship with my father for a few years. Yes, I wish every day of my life that I would have been able to have many more years like that. Yes, it breaks my heart knowing that my beautiful son will never meet his grandfather. But I will not be angry, I just won't. When I think about him, I smile. He loved me, he loved my brother. Hell, he still loved my mother after all the years of not even being with her. The love I felt from him when he was alive has never faded. I feel it stronger than I have ever felt it.
He was far from perfect, but he was also completely amazing.
There were at least a couple hundred people at his funeral. Every single
pew in the church was filled, and there were many people standing in
the back. Every one of them loved my father, and mourned the loss of his
life. I had never realized until that day how many lives he touched
besides my own and those of his close friends. That day, I gained an
enormous amount of respect for my father, and my love for him grew much
stronger.
If I had a moment to sit with my father face to face, there would be many things I would wish to tell him. What I would say, is that I thank God that he was my father, and that I forgive him completely for everything that he spent many years feeling guilt over. I would tell him I love him, and promise to fill my son's life with stories about his grandfather.
On the night of February 25th, my father fell asleep a happy man. He passed in his slumber, holding on to the love of his children, and the new found love for his life.
I love you dad. One day I will see you again.
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