Letter to my Dad, Part 2

{read Part 1 here}


I was crying so much I couldn't see. I ended up closing the store, and somehow drove home where my roommates were waiting for me. Mom arranged for a friend to drive me back up to LP. Everything looked different to me - I could feel that my life would never be the same.

L was with you the whole time Dad, right up until the end. I know I wouldn't have been strong enough to go through what she had to, to see and hear what she did in those last moments. Maybe that's why things happened the way they did, why I went back to work, you knew I wasn't strong enough to be there. When I finally arrived at Mom's and was with L, I was able to let it all out - we cried enough tears to fill the lake that day.

They transported your body to the funeral home we designated. It was the same one that you used for your Mom and Dad. We had to "identify" you, to make sure your body made it to the right place. I wanted to say goodbye. I don't know what gave me the strength - but I knew it would be the very last time I would see you.

You looked so peaceful. You just looked like you were sleeping. You were covered with a white blanket. I held your hand for the last time. I kissed you on the cheek and said goodbye.
I didn't want to leave, it was so final.

Over the next two weeks we all went through the motions. The obligations we had as your survivors. Calling family and friends - L did that. I could barely breath, let alone talk to anyone. Anger came fast for me - and it was ugly. Your funeral was Friday, the skies were black with clouds, and the lake looked furious. I remember wanting to jump in and never come back. Everyone had stories about you that they were telling, but a lot of the people there I didn't even know.

L had to go back home to SC, and I had to return to work. I couldn't even imagine working. After two days back, I took a leave of absence for 3 months, and dropped all my classes. I needed time. I needed to grieve. One of my best friends gave me the best advice, she said, Laura whatever you do, make sure you give yourself the time to really grieve, don't try to avoid it.

I went to L's the first month to spend time with her and C. Being around him helped me see that life would go on, it had to because there was no other choice.

When I got back home, I was driving back and forth from my house to yours quite a bit - settling things here and there and taking care of your house. Watering your roses. Cleaning the pool. I would walk through the rooms and just be there, and then find myself the next morning asleep on the floor. I liked that time alone - to grieve, to heal, to let go.

I did that for 7 months. I felt so alone, and just went through my daily obligations like a check list. I shut out my friends. I didn't attempt dating, I wasn't good company. I was just trying to learn how to live this new life without you. After everything was settled with your estate, I quit working. It had been ten months since you passed - and somewhere in those ten months of lonesomeness and soul searching, I finally started to look forward to my future again. I had lost that when you died.

Dad, my life now is so different compared to nine years ago. I hope you would be proud of me.

I met a man, and I knew at first sight he would be my husband.

He has four children. I know what you're thinking, and it's okay, you know I'd never take on anything I couldn't handle.

He proposed to me at a Giants game on the big score board - I can only imagine what you would've said on the other end of that phone conversation. I thought of you that entire night. It was such a happy moment in my life, but also one of the saddest, because I wasn't able to call and tell you about it. And then I remembered something else....you wouldn't be there to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, give me away, or have a father-daughter dance.

I married Joey on Tuesday, May 27th, 2008, on a beach in Hawaii, all by ourselves. I figured if you couldn't be there, I didn't want anyone else to be either. I wanted it to just be me, and my husband. I wanted that special moment to be ours and only ours, to say our own vows to each other that would serve as the foundation of our marriage. I know you were watching over me that day, and I hope that you would be proud of the life partner I have chosen.

I officially became a mother of four - a job that I never imagined myself taking the role of, but was extremely humbled and grateful to be trusted to love and care for these angels. They are my children in every way possible. You have a total of eight grandchildren, two son-in-laws, and two daughters who haven't stopped thinking about you for one moment. L and I still miss you terribly.

I finished school, Dad! I have a bachelor's degree in communications! I finished for you, and for myself - I know that you would be so proud of me for this accomplishment. I couldn't have done it without Joey though - he supported me and was always there to encourage me when I wanted to quit - just like you used to.

Over the past 9 years, I often wonder where you are. Are you out there? Does your spirit live on? Do you approve of the life I have now? What would you think of my husband and children?  So many questions that no one can have the answers to, but I like to hope that you can see me and watch over our family. I talk to you when I need to, often when I'm out running.

With all important decisions in my life, I ask myself, What would dad think? Will he be proud of me for this decision? I can still hear your voice and that contagious laugh. I can see your smile. I will never forget what your hands looked like, or how you smelt. Although you're not here with us anymore, the memories I have of your life continue to be present. I have so many of your qualities, good and bad, and L has many as well.

I will never forget you, I am a part of you, and you will forever have a piece of my heart. I hope someday I will see you again.

I love you, Dad.

Obviously death is inevitable. When my dad died, I was 21 years old - old enough to understand death, but not nearly old enough to comprehend the emotions I was feeling. I believe that death is a difficult part of life no matter how it occurs or when. No one will escape it. Nevertheless, at 21, I was naïve and self involved - I had forgotten about how quickly life can end. Without a moment's notice your entire life can be flipped upside down. I do have regrets. My Dad's death opened my eyes, and I changed the entire path I was walking. Everyday my husband goes to work, I kiss him goodbye and say I love you. I send my kids to school with a big hug and kiss, knowing they know I love them. I love more. I love hard. I am more compassionate. I have more patience. I live one day at a time, and am thankful for my life.