Words cannot do these feelings justice.

It's going on 3 years since I lost my Dad to cancer.  Today is just as painful as the day he left.  I'm sure I'm not the only one in this world who has ever felt this way.  But, in my family (the 6 of us), I am alone in my feelings.  The kids were so little when he passed that they barely remember him.  Keldan was just a month old so he will never remember.  Jesse has yet to loose anyone even remotely close to him and currently has a dad and a father.  Not to mention he is not nearly as close to any of his parents as I am to mine.

Today has been especially hard.  These days happen from time to time.  Today was one of them because I really needed my confidant.  You see, I talked to my dad every day for probably the last 5 years of his life.  And before that I lived at home so I saw him everyday.  I know most daughters go to their mothers for advice and to just chat.  For me it was my dad.  I went to him for just about everything.  He and I had the same thought process, we looked at things the same way.  We had a lot of the same views and opinions.  Kindred spirits is the way I like to look at our relationship.

To say he was my best friend doesn't do it justice.  He was my comrade. My confidant.  My rock.  My hero.  He taught me to stand up for myself.  He taught me the "arts" of life.  Because there is "an art to doing everything in this world, including melting butter in a frying pan."  Yup, he said that to me one day when he was trying to teach me to cook something.  :-)

I miss him.  I long to hear his voice.  I do miss his voice most of all because it meant he was here, somewhere on this world.  It meant he was giving me advice or harassing the hell out of me or someone else.  It meant we were arguing... I loved arguing with my dad, it's just the way we communicated.  We argued over everything.  It was the way of life.  Neither of us were usually upset with the other, but in this way we hashed out all that was bothering us in our individual lives.  We were probably arguing over a sporting event or something in the news, but it meant so much more than that.  I wish I could explain it here, but I can't.  I talked about it with Jesse tonight and he understood completely what I was saying, mostly because he witnessed it.

I miss his smile and his chuckle.  His snicker because he thought he was right, always right.  I miss seeing his eyes light up when the kids laughed or called him Grandpa.  I miss seeing the pride on his face when our whole family was together.  He lived for us.  Day in and day out was for his family.  It's why he kept going with chemo when the doctors told him it was time to think about just enjoying what time he had left.  It's why he drove 2 hours to see Keldan be born even though he could barely walk.

I recently found a CD with a short video on it of a trip my parents took to Arizona.  They went there every year to visit friends and get a break from the snow.  I couldn't see my dad in the video but I could hear his voice in the background talking to someone about appliances of all things...  He was an appliance repairman by trade and loved to share his knowledge with people.  So the conversation didn't surprise me.  What did surprise me were the instantaneous tears when I heard his voice.  I think I listened to that CD at least 32 times that night.  It was less than a minute long, but it felt like a lifetime to hear his voice!  Oh how I will cherish that sill CD forever now.

I watch so many people in my life around me who just don't cherish it.  They don't cherish what they have, instead they are worried about what they don't.  They worry over other people, whom they have no control over.  They smoke like chimneys or drink like fish....  They are wasting their lives away and don't care because "it'll never happen to them."  I see, know and am related to so many people who think or act like they will live forever.  There's always tomorrow.  Well I'm here to tell you there's not always tomorrow.

The last day I saw my dad alive was July 18, 2009.  I remember it very well because it was Dominic's birthday party.  My entire immediate family came down to have our first complete family picture taken.  My dad complained the whole time because he had to get up so early and the portrait studio was so cold (to him anyways).  He wasn't feeling good and that was very apparent.  When he left my house that day, he came to say goodbye.  I had just gotten over a cold and didn't want to get him sick so told him he shouldn't hug or kiss me at all because with the chemo he didn't have an immune system.  He told me it didn't matter, he was gonna hug his daughter anyways and then he kissed my cheek.  I told him I'd see him the following weekend, he smile, nodded his head and slowly walked to his car.  It was the last time I saw him "alive."

Two days later, on Dominic's 4th birthday, I got a call at 4 o'clock in the morning from my brother that Dad was at the hospital and they were gonna put him on a respirator because he couldn't breath very well on his own.  I had known since the night before that he was at the hospital with pneumonia.  Jesse works 3rd shift and we only had one car at the time, so he came home and drove me to Ludington while my aunt, who was visiting to help with the new baby, stayed with the kids.  I got there around 7 am.  It was a long day of nothing improving.  He couldn't really talk to us because of the respirator.  He died that night at 11:55 pm and a part of me died with him. 

I will never be whole again, of that I am sure.  Like I said, we were kindred spirits and a part of me is now gone.

I've been struggling the last couple of weeks with my life and my body/weight issues.  And tonight I realized why I just can't seem to get past my bad mood.  It's my dad that I would have called or visited to work through everything with.  I've tried talking with both Jesse and my mom as well as a couple friends, but it's just not the same.  I have been bottling this stuff up inside for over 2 years because I just can't find someone who understands nearly like Dad would.  I know I need to let this go and move on, but I'm struggling to figure out how.

What I wouldn't give to talk to him once in awhile.  Even just one more time.  But I know I will eventually just wish for yet another one more time.

So here it is.  I'm writing this all down to help me.  I need to hash this out.  I hope that by thinking these things through and being honest with myself and writing them down, I will somehow be able to move on.



I've read and reread this blog post.  It is hard to stop and I feel like I'm rambling.  So for now, I'm done.  I know I will write again about my Dad or maybe to my Dad.  But for tonight, this is all I have.  No point, no sense of anything, just a lot of random feelings that need an outlet.

I miss you Daddy.  I love you, too!  I hope you are at peace and smiling down on me.  Please, if you could, just a little guidance somehow will be so appreciated.  I think about you everyday and remember you like it was just yesterday.  xoxo

Hugs ~ B.