I can’t turn on the radio, I can’t go onto Facebook, not a bad thing because so much time is wasted there and lately it just make me so mad. I can’t stand seeing all the “happy” on there, to be reminded of one of my loved ones that I no longer have
This is my third year without my father on Father’s Day and it feels like the band aid has been ripped off an old wound too slowly. A wound that will never truly heal, a wound that everyone has seemed to have forgotten about, everyone but me. So i sit here and try not to cry, i sit here and try not to think about it, but in doing that I seem to be buried in memories both good and bad of my daddy.
My dad was the first to show up for me (family wise) after my husband’s accident, and this was after having just been released from the hospital for his own major surgery, my dad always made sure that his girls where taken care of, he called just to be funny, he called to sing happy birthday even when they where too young to understand, and I thought I was too old to be sung to. My dad showed my girls what a Godly man should look like, and even though he was not in their little lives for very long he had left a lasting impression. My dad loved taking the girls on little adventures, even driving down to watch a soccer game or magnet ball as we called it. He was the kind of dad that happened to need a new car right when mine broke down and he knew I couldn’t afford to get a new one, just so I could have his old one. My dad was one of the smartest men I knew, you see that rocket in the photo below…well he made that rocket he is also one of the master minds behind GPS, something that I didn’t find out until after his death. My dad didn’t say anything when I changed my major to art, he just said “if that is what you want to do than I will support you.” My dad would love the fact that his girls are getting homeschooled, he would love that I started playing the trombone again, he would love that I am raising meat rabbits. My dad taught me wood working, he gave me my love of photography, my love of working with my hands, he taught me how to love the outdoors, how to think for myself, but also how to see what the other side is thinking/feeling. I miss him more today than I did yesterday. I love that my son knows who he is, even if he never met him, I am sad when he says things like “he wishes he know him” believe me little man I wish you got to know him too. I wish that whenever I look at my baby boy i was not reminded of the person that I lost, when my son made his exit from the womb, but I also think that is the reason I was able to keep going, because another little person needed me as much as I needed them.
How is it that in August it will already be 4 years, when sometimes it feels like yesterday. How is it that next month at this time…well it will mark the last time I saw him. How is it that all his phone numbers are still in my phone… still with the favorites…how is it that I have to remind myself not to call.
Oh how he loved his granddaughters! Oh how he would have loved his grandson! I’m so happy that I “found out” what I was having before H was born, gave the paper to my mom when they visited all because I was worried about clothes! But oh how glad I am that I was worried about such a stupid little thing, because than my dad knew that he was going to have a grandson! My dad was able to buy a grandson, that he never got to meet the cutest little outfits that I will forever cherish.
If you are still blessed to have a father to call today please do so!!! If the last time you saw your father or even spoke to him you did so in hate and not love, please make amends!!! I know that i wish i had, but I thought hey I’ll see him after the baby is born and we can make up than… don’t leave in hate, no matter how much you want to, no matter how angry you are, no matter how tired…please, please, please, always leave in love…
I was not sure if I wanted to write this post, but I’m trying to be real, and hey this is as real as it gets right now, today, this Father’s Day and all the ones that I have to go through in the years to come. I am reminded by what I have lost, what my children have lost, and I am reminded to pray that one day they can say the same things about me on Mother’s Day, but most importantly pray, that they can say the same things about their father come Father’s Day.
I will forever miss you daddy, and I will always be your little girl ❤️