Eleven years. Jeebus! He never saw my daughter... or my nieces... or his two great granddaughters.
He missed my brother's wedding -- the one that stuck -- and he never got to walk my sister down the aisle.
I can't go into a German or Bohemian restaurant without thinking of him, and how he'd call me up the minute The Princess Mom left town to visit my Fairy Godmother so that we could go out and eat liver dumpling soup and Schnitzel ala Holstein and more artery-clogging comfort food washed down with frosty steins of lager.
I'm glad he missed The Princess Mom's passing -- it would have gutted him.
And I'm glad he's missing out on today's politics... although he might have ended up running for local office if only to have a hand in straightening out some of the fiscal mess. As it is, though, I'm quite sure the little plastic urn containing what's left of his ashes is spinning like a top under the deceptively peaceful sod of Naperville Cemetery.
But I'm so, so sorry he missed so much that would have pleased him. I'm sorry that the girls will never know him for the wonderfully caring, loyal, stubborn, hard-headed, quick-witted, smart, savvy, loving brother, husband, father and grandfather that he was.
When I have big life choices to make, I still have conversations, out loud, with my father. I can still hear his voice calling me "Toots" and steering me in the right direction.
I miss you every day, Daddy.
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6 comments:
*hugs* The years pass...you learn to move on, but you never get 'over' it...
Hugs my friend.
Thanks, ladies. It doesn't hit me often, but tonight I sobbed like a baby for a while. Every once in a while it's still a punch square in the gut.
I think that our sadness over the things they missed, helps us keep their memory alive. I know that it spurs me to talk to my kids about my dad, more so than I ever would if he were here to share those occasions.
I lost my dad 47 years ago, and the day is as clear as yesterday was to me. I still miss him and I still "chat" with him.
Judy
Not to come across as presumptuous, but I feel your pain. Even though my dad is four years past, I too still find myself seeking out his wisdom and advice and occasionally talking with him.
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