Monday, December 3, 2012
I lost my dad who was ill and needed to be set free; I have found peace and serenity in the death of my sick dad. I've also lost a dad who was once healthy, happy, and free. It's him that I haven't let myself think about for a very long time...maybe thinking of him that way was too painful for me. I think remembering my dad when he was at his best just reminded me of what I was missing. It's that Dad, he is the one I'm grieving. He is the one that keeps me awake at night. I miss him. So. Much.
My dad was a wonderful man. Salt of the earth. He wasn't materialistic, boring, or disinterested. He loved to hang out with his two daughters, he loved to camp, and he loved to golf. He married his best friend (my mama) at the tender age of 22 and stayed married to her all of his life. He loved eating cioppino, adored the forty niners, and loved to make things like candles, ornaments, and rat mazes. Once, he went to the grocery store to buy milk and came back with a bunny! I got to name him (Licorice), and my dad built a castle (huge rabbit cage) for him in the back yard. He was smart, creative, and hard working. He loved me. And I loved him.
I feel like I've become a member of a really shitty club. The "dead parent," club. But....(and there is a really big BUT), I'm also the member of a really amazing club (that is far more exclusive). It's called the "I was raised by an extraordinary man, who loved his family and did anything for them," club.