Daddy's Girl

I was digging through the "organization" station on my desk today, hunting feverishly for a birthday card as one of the kids was running out to a party.  I always buy a stack and leave them in there because I am very far from organized.  I pulled out this card and it made me stop in my tracks - it was a card I bought for Dad two years ago on Father's Day and I just completely forgot to give it to him.  Guess I tucked it away thinking I may need it next year.  Guess not . . .

The card was perfect and it summed up our relationship as only those jokers at Hallmark can do "Dad, your love and support have carried me over the years.  You've helped me to become the person I am today."  I am keeping this card.  I am keeping it because it is such a beautiful reminder of how much my dad impacted my life.

He called me Big J and I adored the times we spent together:  going on Indian Princess camping trips, swimming in the ocean early on a Friday evening after he had arrived in Bay Head from the city, chats we had on the car ride home from high school sports practices.  I wanted to go to Notre Dame and be a lawyer, just like my father.  Life had a different path for me and Dad was always there along the way, counseling, supporting, loving.

Losing Dad, while painful and sad, is very different than losing Mom.  In some ways, Dad's death has helped me close the chapter on losing Mom.  Sounds weird, I know, but I have this erie calm about it all.  Dad and Mom really were one in the same even though they impacted my life in very distinct ways.  They were the love story of all love stories and he was lost without her.  He tried, he tried really hard, but his place was with his dear Mimi and no one could stop him.  It's not to say he didn't want to be with his children and grandkids, he just knew we were all in a good place and could move on without him.  He knew he had done his job well.  While we are all far from perfect, Dad taught us to be respectful, confident and loving adults.  He taught us how to raise our children to be the same and once he knew his work was done, he could go join Mom.  We'll slip up along the way, hit some bumps in the road, but we will always have the foundation of our Dad supporting us every step of the way.

Love you Dad . . .

Round 2

Just when you think all is quiet in the world . . .

I haven't blogged in a bit because the loss of my mom is settling into my life.  And now that I am more comfortable with that, I am stuck in the precarious position of assisting my dad through his last days.  Cancer is an amazing and somewhat awesome disease.  Just when you think you have it beat, it rears its ugly head, flips you the proverbial "bird" and takes hold.  I am really, really, really tired of this shitty disease.

Dad is undergoing his last treatment in a little over twelve hours from now and then he will begin the journey to join Mom.  I know it's what he wants and where he wants to be, but I'm selfish and I want him here.  I want to have one parent around.  I want my kids to have one grandparent to show up at the communion, confirmation, prom, graduation, wedding.  Sadly, I won't get what I want.  God only gives you what you can handle and I'm really sick of his decision that this is what I can handle.  My brothers and sisters and I deserve a break.  But we're not getting one this time.

All this crap just brings up the worst memories and images for me, for all six of us.  Once you know how tough this all is, you really don't want to revisit it.  That, unfortunately, is not an option for us now.  I guess the only light at the end of this tunnel is that Mom and Dad will be together again.  He is pretty lost without her, so it's about time she came to get him.  I just wish she would wait a bit longer.