Missing my Dad

One year ago today, I got the call from my aunt Gale that my Dad had died. I remember that when the phone rang, I was eating Tuna Cheesy Pasta Helper - something that I haven't been able to stomach since. (Yes, I know I'm not missing anything!) I vaguely remember thinking about when I should fly home, and talking with my sister, and I remember eating a LOT of Chick-fil-a in Odessa that week. Pretty much everything else is a blur though all the way through Thanksgiving. Or really, the rest of the year - "last year" has often meant 2007-08 when I discuss kids this year. The things that stand out are the kindness of good friends: the ones who drove me to the airport, the ones who came to the funeral, the ones who collected money to help with expenses, the ones who took the time at a party to ask me quietly how I was doing, the ones who took me out for Mexican food and shopping when it was desparately needed... you all know who you are and I remain deeply grateful for your friendship.

There's absolutely nothing that prepares you for the loss of a parent, particularly just before his 54th birthday. Yes, I guess I knew it was possible - after all, he'd had two previous heart attacks, and we all DO die someday - but Kristi and I used to joke when we'd worry about things that Dad would probably outlive us all with his uncanny luck. There's no step-by-step guide called "What to do when your dad dies," and I know this for sure because I googled it (and seriously think someone should make one by the way). My supervisor, Donna, said it best when she said to prepare for fighting waves in the ocean: some days you're fine, other days you're a mess, and there's not a lot of predictability to it at all. I can definitely attest to the truth of that.

I miss Dad every day. I often think of things I should have said or done that I won't get the chance to do. Sometimes, I almost call him to discuss the latest football win of a favorite team or to tell him something cool that happened. I thought of him a lot in England this summer - which is strange because he never went there - but there were often little things that would remind me of him. I even find myself using some of the sayings that he used when we were little.

I wonder what he would think about things and what he'd be doing if he was still here. I know his last six months or so were the happiest he'd been in a long time, and I hope that would have continued. It's so hard to think of all the things that Dad didn't get to be a part of - meeting my sister's boyfriend, hearing about our time in England, seeing B.J. help coach the Katy Tigers to the district championship, on and on and on. I grieve that he won't be there to dance with my sister when she gets married, and he won't get to hold his grandbabies. He would have loved that. I hope that I am able to convey to my kids all of the great things about Dad enough that they feel like they had him as a grandpa, even though they won't remember him.

I took a personal day today, knowing it would be a hard day. I'm going to go to IHOP in a few minutes and get a "Rooty Tooty Fresh n Fruity". I wasn't sure what I would do with the rest of the day, but it turns out that I have to go to the cardiologist - kind of an ironic way to honor your dad who died of a heart attack, I know. I'll blog later about all my health stuff.

Here are a few photos of my Dad with us. Thank you for letting me share this with you.

I would love to hear your favorite memories of my Dad too, so please feel free to leave a comment!