Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of my father’s death. I had a weird moment at 4 AM, when I suddenly realized I had gone the whole day and not thought about it. There was a twinge of guilt, but it passed pretty quickly. I don’t think Dad would have wanted for me or my siblings to spend the day dwelling on it. I sometimes make jokes about him being dead and people look at me cross-eyed, but you have to realize that my dad was a funny guy and didn’t take himself too seriously, and I really don’t think he would mind a bit.
He was a recovered alcoholic and died, fittingly enough, in an AA meeting (he didn’t “officially” die until a few hours later at the hospital but he never recovered consciousness and it was pretty much over when he keeled over at the meeting). He was 77 years old and had been sober for 25 years. I can’t think of a better way to go, frankly. He was in a place he loved, with people he loved and who loved him. I was so moved by the number of people who stood up at his memorial service and told of how he had touched their lives. I can imagine no greater achievement for my own life than to die sober.
As sad as I was to lose him, I felt very strongly that he was simply done here. Our society doesn’t deal well with death, but I have been fortunate enough to come to the realization that death is nothing to fear. It is as natural a part of life as birth–it’s simply the end of this particular journey, as birth is the beginning. It was time for him to go on to whatever comes after this.
I still miss him terribly sometimes. I spent a lot of time being mad at him for not being the father I wanted him to be, but I learned to accept him and love him for who he was, and for that I am forever grateful. He was smart, funny, kind. He instilled in me a great curiosity and appreciation for knowledge. He gave me my quirky sense of humor. He, along with my mother, gave me three wonderful siblings who I love more than anything.
Thank you for everything, Dad. I love you and I miss you.
Well Crap! Who gave you the ability to make a charter member of the He-Man-Woman-Haters Club get all misty? (it’s just dust, honest)
When my FIL died (passed away sounds like pussy-footing over the issue) he died the same way, surrounded by loved ones, etc. That is DEFINATELY the way to go - best for all involved.
My wife heard/read that it takes five or more years to recover from the loss of a parent. Living through this, I truly believe that. I’m not the kind for the 'ole {{ hugs thing, but I’m sure keeping a soft spot in the heart with your name on it. There’s a lot of maturity and sensitivity in your post that I’m sure your father was proud to see in you - regardless of its genetic source.
And he got sober and stayed such for 25 years! Now I know where you got your strength
My father died two years ago, November 10th. I still miss him every day. He had a wonderful life (Army enlisted man, Navy enlisted man, Naval officer, Air Traffic Control Specialist with the FAA… geez, he spent over half his life in public service!) and he died too soon at 71. He was badly injured in a car wreck three or four years before he died. Ironically, he was in a Chevy “Metro”. Precursor to the Geo, babe.) Whacked his brain. He knew he was impared, and it hurt him to know that he wasn’t himself. But he remained a kind, gentle man. Befitting a Naval officer, he was buried at sea fron a Navy ship.
I know how you feel, Geobabe.
PS: Dad would have liked this. There were little booklets with his photo and stats on them at his memorial. Just his face. but those were for the “normal” relatives. For the rest of us there was another photo. Dad looking over his shoulder as he had his back toward the camera, bent over a little bit, standing next to a DEAD END sign.
I lost my mom 3 1/2 years ago. I loved and adored her. I know that she is gone. But sometimes, if I am not really thinking about it, something will happen that makes me realize that my heart is not entirely convinced that she is never, ever coming back.
I do know one thing. Your father can be proud of the daughter he left behind. And from what you have said, you can be proud of the man your father was, and especially for the fact that he overcame such tremendous obstacles in his life in order to really BECOME the man that you mourn.
