Remembering my father on Fathers Day
It has taken me a long time to post this but I felt I had to today....
On March 25, 2012 a large light in my life was turned off. My father left on his last known journey into the beyond, just a month shy of his 75th birthday and a day after his 54th wedding anniversary.
I knew, mentally, that this day would come, particularly as he began more frequent trips to the ER in the past couple of years due to certain health issues. But although I mentally prepared, it was in no way enough for what it really felt like, and continues to feel like. And more stunning in some ways is how he passed so soon after my wedding. I had hoped that he would be around longer to see me accomplish more things and perhaps even see his youngest grandchild if we decided to have one.
But as I traveled across the country the day after he passed, I couldn't help but feel how selfish that hope might have been for my father in his condition. Yes I know he had many things he wanted to still do and be around for but I'm sure he was struggling too; he wasn't able to travel as easily as his mind wanted to nor was he able to eat as freely as his appetite wanted. And I can only imagine how hard that might have been for someone who had once traveled so often and so far, and ate with such zest and appetite. And maybe his sudden dislike for all his medications was an indication that he was getting tired (he was never one to dislike taking medicine). I don't know and I guess I'll never know.
There are so many things I will never know. But I certainly have learned more in the process of dealing with the absence of my father. Despite all of the ups and downs in our life as a family and all the struggles I faced with having such a strict father, he has been a constant presence in my 36 years of life. And I feel so incredibly blessed to have had that. Unfortunately, it did take me a while to see that. Until my late 20s I always thought he was simply an overbearing strict father who would never understand me. But by God's grace I came to understand that he was a father who did the best he could with what he knew, and I, of all people should understand this. I came to understand that my father loved his family fiercely, in his own way, and while sometimes we never could understand it and felt suffocated by it, now I see it as a love that has touched my life in more ways than I'll ever know; and I was just as self-centered as he was to not see that my father was as multi-dimensional as I was. It is with this realization that I try to deal with his sudden passing and his absence from this point on in my life.
It is harder than I ever imagined. There is an emptiness in my life that will be there forever as I move forward--a void that will never again be filled because it is shaped uniquely like my father and no one else. His role in my life was instrumental and now that he is not physically with us, my heart really aches. And the sadness....it lurks behind every laughter and every new memory I make with my husband--a wistful sadness that wishes my father could see it and a certain hope that maybe he does, watching over us from wherever he is. Sadness lurks behind every conversation I have with my mother and every time I look in the mirror--the jarring realization or the deep sorrow that we will never see his face again as much as we see traces in our memories, in photos of his life, or even in my own face. And then the sadness that visits on this Father's Day, knowing that there are no more phone calls to make, cards to send, gifts to buy for the father that gave me life. Yes, I can still celebrate him and I still wished him a happy Father's Day; but nothing can replace the ability to reach out and hug someone we love. And I am still grasping what it means to not ever be able to do that again with my father.
On March 25, 2012 a large light in my life was turned off. My father left on his last known journey into the beyond, just a month shy of his 75th birthday and a day after his 54th wedding anniversary.
I knew, mentally, that this day would come, particularly as he began more frequent trips to the ER in the past couple of years due to certain health issues. But although I mentally prepared, it was in no way enough for what it really felt like, and continues to feel like. And more stunning in some ways is how he passed so soon after my wedding. I had hoped that he would be around longer to see me accomplish more things and perhaps even see his youngest grandchild if we decided to have one.
But as I traveled across the country the day after he passed, I couldn't help but feel how selfish that hope might have been for my father in his condition. Yes I know he had many things he wanted to still do and be around for but I'm sure he was struggling too; he wasn't able to travel as easily as his mind wanted to nor was he able to eat as freely as his appetite wanted. And I can only imagine how hard that might have been for someone who had once traveled so often and so far, and ate with such zest and appetite. And maybe his sudden dislike for all his medications was an indication that he was getting tired (he was never one to dislike taking medicine). I don't know and I guess I'll never know.
There are so many things I will never know. But I certainly have learned more in the process of dealing with the absence of my father. Despite all of the ups and downs in our life as a family and all the struggles I faced with having such a strict father, he has been a constant presence in my 36 years of life. And I feel so incredibly blessed to have had that. Unfortunately, it did take me a while to see that. Until my late 20s I always thought he was simply an overbearing strict father who would never understand me. But by God's grace I came to understand that he was a father who did the best he could with what he knew, and I, of all people should understand this. I came to understand that my father loved his family fiercely, in his own way, and while sometimes we never could understand it and felt suffocated by it, now I see it as a love that has touched my life in more ways than I'll ever know; and I was just as self-centered as he was to not see that my father was as multi-dimensional as I was. It is with this realization that I try to deal with his sudden passing and his absence from this point on in my life.
It is harder than I ever imagined. There is an emptiness in my life that will be there forever as I move forward--a void that will never again be filled because it is shaped uniquely like my father and no one else. His role in my life was instrumental and now that he is not physically with us, my heart really aches. And the sadness....it lurks behind every laughter and every new memory I make with my husband--a wistful sadness that wishes my father could see it and a certain hope that maybe he does, watching over us from wherever he is. Sadness lurks behind every conversation I have with my mother and every time I look in the mirror--the jarring realization or the deep sorrow that we will never see his face again as much as we see traces in our memories, in photos of his life, or even in my own face. And then the sadness that visits on this Father's Day, knowing that there are no more phone calls to make, cards to send, gifts to buy for the father that gave me life. Yes, I can still celebrate him and I still wished him a happy Father's Day; but nothing can replace the ability to reach out and hug someone we love. And I am still grasping what it means to not ever be able to do that again with my father.
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