8 years ago today he left this earth. The worst day of my life to date. I have pretty good memory, but I sometimes fear that I will forget things about him that I loved. Some big things, lots of little silly things... all are what made him who he was, so special to me.
Here are some that come to mind this morning....
*I would always go to my dad if I needed something during the night. That's just who I went to... not sure why. He slept on the left side of the bed. And he would never be upset that I woke him. Maybe that's why I sleep on the left side of the bed....
*I fit perfectly into him to snuggle on the couch when I was little... and not so little!! :) Many times I cried into his chest... and he just let me, not saying a word.
*He loved Christmas.. and he always would go check to see if Santa showed up before we were allowed into the living room. He usually then would tell us, with a sheepish grin, that he DIDN'T come.. just to get a reaction. I think we fell for it every time, too!! :)
* He would get on the floor with us girls and "play rough". We would climb all over him and he would take us on rides on his back. He would tickle us, tackle us, and dog pile us, too! I get claustrophobic pretty easily, but I loved to be a the bottom of the pile, laughing hysterically!!
*He would "jig" when he got you with a good joke or said something funny. (If you watch the ending scene in the movie "Erin Brokovich", when Ed gets Erin to think he lowered her bonus.. and does a little jig after ribbing her for not being good at apologizing... that jig... TOTALLY my dad. I could watch that scene over and over... )
*He would answer the phone, "Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening this is Don" in the most cheerful voice.. no matter what his mood.
*He was the one who delivered bad news to us girls. He had a way of breaking it gently yet to the point. With a hug, too.
*He rooted for the underdog.. being a Duck fan in the 70' s and 80' s taught him that I think!
*He was an amazing basketball coach... and an amazing football referee.
*My sweet mom is an
amazing cook... but dad was the pancake maker.. and he made really good pancakes!!
*He had cereal EVERY night before bed.. and always shared his leftover milk with the cats. We took one of the cats (our Sam) after he died.. and he STILL will come running in the evenings if he hears a spoon clank against a bowl. My dad even made an impression on the cat!
* My freshman year I didn't make the cheerleading squad. I was so sad. If you made the squad, you got a carnation. Dad came home from work that night with a special carnation for me.. I still have that carnation!
*He called his parents on a regular basis... and he always ended by telling them he loved them, even his dad. That made an impression on me.
I could go on and on and on.....
One of the best things about my dad is that he took time to know me... really know me. He knew my strengths and weaknesses, and wanted me to use both to better myself. He was a consummate encourager. My cheerleader.
An old note from him, written to me when I was about 10, says:Steph,
Always be yourself-keep your loving caring heart. You are one of a kind. People will always like you because you are you!! You should give yourself more credit; you don't have to take second to anyone. Stand tall, and let the world see you. Daddy will always love you and always be there if you need me.
Love, Dad
I will always cherish those words, words from a man who knew me and loved me well.
I hope I can always be myself, be kind, and stand tall for you, dad.. and be half the person you were. I hope I make you proud. I miss you so much... oh, so much. I wish I could call you up, just to hear your voice. I wish Evelyn and Matthew could know you, play with you, laugh with you, be encouraged by you, be loved by you. I just wish you were still here. Period.
Some anniversaries of your passing are easier than others. This year is a harder one for me. So, I will let the tears flow, yet I will carry on. With hope. With wonderful memories. With you in my heart always. That's what you would want.
I love you, Dad...