Shortly after reading the cancellation text, I remembered my father. He would have been 59 today. I still find myself at odds with how long he has been gone from this earth. I've all but forgotten the sound of his voice. Nearly twenty years have passed and so many of the little things seemed to have escaped with them, but the important and most meaningful things remain. If I sit and think long enough about it, I can almost remember what the sound of his laugh was like. It was infectious. I wish I could find the right words to describe it; I'm glad that I can still picture him smiling and joking around.
There are times I still find myself overcome with sadness for his absence in my life; my family's life. More often than not though, a sense of peace flows through me at the memory of him. And right now, it's a mix of the two. This man was more than just a father; he was a patient teacher, a positive example and an amazing soul. He was also funny, aggravating and stubborn. He brought with him his daughter, who became a sister - parents and a sister - no, an entire family that became my own. In every one of them, there are pieces of him.
My sons, my nephews and niece, never got to meet him. They won't ever experience having dinner with him and listening to stories of his work day, like coming out of a bathroom stall to see another guy bent over in the sink blowing his nose in his hands, snot strung between his nose and his fingers. Oh yes, my dad was that guy...always prepared with a story that would shock you and he often sprung those kind of gems on us after we had just shoved a forkful of food in our mouths. I think I can safely say my sisters and I aren't topic sensitive when we eat these days. That particular 'tradition' lives on, at least in my house. Dinner conversation is pretty much an anything-goes event.
In my life there won't ever be a time I don't wonder if I should have had him hand the phone to my mother the night I called after I was raped. If I had ever questioned how he felt about his role as my father, hearing my mother and grandmother describe his reactions would have quelled it instantly. I only wish he had lived to see both of those vile men convicted and sentenced.
There are so many things about him that I miss, but I'm happy for each and every memory his life created. I am also grateful for his willingness to take on the role of being a father not only to his own daughter, but also to my sister and I. His acceptance and love were an important part of my eventually being able to be a more open and engaging person, despite the traumas in my childhood and having been raped. Far from being torn apart, my family became stronger after he lost his fight with cancer. Staying together, staying close, kept so much of him with us that could have been lost otherwise.
While I will never stop missing his presence or wondering what life would be like were he still here, I will always treasure the memories; through each of them, I know, he will continue to be a part of this life. A frequent reminder to enjoy what I have, love the people who are around me, and make sure there are more good memories than bad in every area of my life.
(Of all the music my dad listened to, YES will always instantly remind me of him)
This song was out when my dad, Gary, became part of my family. He loved it and again, it will always remind me of him :)
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