Where to begin. A little background at least.
On Saturday my dad passed away. I felt like a liar when I was telling people that. We had been expecting it for years but never thought it would be today. It can’t be today.
I had been to see him on Thursday. He was abnormally awake and chatty. We had a nice conversation and he asked if my hands were cold and if I could put them on his aching head. For once they were warm, but I did it anyways. He asked me to bust him out of the nursing home to see a movie and I told him I’d see what I could do. I said goodbye the same way I always did, knowing it could very well be the last time.
On Saturday morning my mom made it clear that I should come see him. The nurses seemed in agreement that the end was near, but having seen him come back from seemingly impossible situations I don’t think we quite let it sink in. Even now it won’t.
Let’s get one thing straight – my dad was my hero. He got married at 19, had two babies, manned up, worked hard, and provided for his family. He was an alcoholic until I was five years old, at which point he said God gave him a vision of what his life would be like if he kept drinking. He pulled himself off the barroom floor and never touched another drop.
My dad taught me everything a girl needs to know from her father – how to check the oil in my car, how to open a bank account, how to drive in reverse, and how to tell it like it is. He got in his share of trouble in his day. He wasn’t proud of it but he never shied away from it in teaching my sister and I how to navigate through life.
There aren’t words to say to convey what I’m feeling, but I know I’m not the only one to ever lose someone. We all have people we care about and need to appreciate today. Please understand if it’s quiet around here for a while as my family and I process and say goodbye.