As I mentioned yesterday, I have a bunch of stuff on my heart and in my mind that I will be talking about at some point I'm sure. I was all geared up with a topic for today's post, until about an hour ago, when it hit me that it's almost Father's Day, and my thoughts took an entire change in direction. The beauty of this blog is that it's a by-the-seat-of-my-pants sorta thing, and well, I can change my mind if I wanna. :)
Not sure where to start...I'm actually speechless...wow, that is a different sensation for me...lol.
Tomorrow, June 15th, is 3 months since I lost my father, suddenly. We still don't have an official cause of death, but I'm 99.9% sure it was a heart attack, in his sleep. I guess if I had to choose a way to go, that would be at the top of the list, so for that, I am thankful that he didn't suffer. Although suffer is a relative term. Let me say, he didn't suffer from an actual sickness or disease that caused his death, but he suffered a lot. He suffered through years with a thankless job for an unappreciative company, of his time and dedication. He suffered the additional task of caring for my step-mother after her stroke 10/11 years ago (let me add here, he NEVER viewed that as a burden in any way. He loved her very much and did the best he could to do what was right by her). He suffered with financial burdens, fairly consistently, but again, did the best he could. He always made sure to try to take Debbie (step-mom) on little vacations, to get her out of the house. Little day trips here and there. Made sure everyone felt loved on birthdays and holidays, but I wish he would've known that all we ever needed or wanted was him. All of him. The visits were more than enough. He was more than enough. I don't think he ever thought that. He had a hard time growing up, though not in appearances. He was an only child of 2 working parents and they did quite well. He was a football player, good looking and popular, and had anything he wanted, materialistically. But....as much as I LOVE and miss my grandparents (another post for another day) he never felt good enough. He was compared to his cousins...he needed to be smarter, faster, stronger. The demands led to bad choices. Too much drinking started in college, he got my unmarried mom pregnant, had me his sophomore year of college, never ended the party lifestyle, and quite honestly, made lots of bad decisions, no one is perfect. He drank a lot while we were growing up (he and my mom divorced when I was 10, my brother and I were then raised with him, my step-mother and her 2 kids), they fought a lot, there were money issues a lot. NONE of it mattered to me...but he always thought it mattered. I was happiest (and I think he was too) in those quiet moments when I was just daddy's little girl...the princess. He loved me so much, I never doubted that for one second. We had fights, problems, times here and there as I became an adult that we didn't even speak for one reason or the other. But I always loved him...with my whole heart. Why does it take someone's passing to see that sometimes? I wanted so much for my dad to be proud of me, and he was, and I know that. As much as there were problems, there was love, and unconditional. He eventually stopped drinking, stopped smoking, grew up so to speak, faced responsibilities and took on way more than any one man should have to. Besides the working and taking care of my step-mom, he also was raising my step-brother's 7 year old daughter. She lived with them full time. He took her to school, school functions, girl scouts, sold cookies with her, took her places parent's normally would take their children....keeping in mind that this wasn't his biological grandchild....it's my step-brother's daughter. BUT my dad NEVER felt like that. He loved her, and all the grandkids with his whole self. He loved kids in general, but definitely don't mess with his crew. Point being, he was a great man, with a great big heart. He died because he was tired. Stressed. And just plain tired. If he were standing over my shoulder right now reading this (and I'm pretending he is...maybe he is), I would tell him so many things:
I love you more than you will ever know. I was always and will always be your little girl.
I miss you more than you will ever know.
You were more amazing, wonderful and special than you will ever know.
Everything you did was more valued than you will ever know.
I wish you were here for the grandkids....I wish you were here for me.
I hate I didn't say these things to you when you were living. I hate I didn't spend more time with you. I feel guilty beyond measure. I hope that every move I make makes you proud of how you raised me and proud of the woman and mother I have become.
You were always good enough, Daddy, and I love you.
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