Sunday, December 21, 2014

Sunday Confessions: Father

My father died in 2001. 

Today would have been his 58th birthday. 

I wish I could say it gets easier, but it doesn't. 

Every milestone, every tragedy, every celebration, every new lesson learned... I wish he was here.  

I wish he was here to play with my nephew, and support my sister while she prepares to bring my nieces into the world. 

I wish he was here to see the man my brother has become. 

Sometimes, I wish he was here because he died before I feel like I really got to know him.  A child only knows their parent as that... a parent.  You don't see them as a person until you become your own person.  I often wonder who he was.  

I wonder what he would think of me.  I wonder if he would be proud of me.  

Sometimes, I wonder what I might be like if it weren't for his death.  

Then I realize that while I sometimes long for his presence, at the time time... much of who and what I am was directly impacted by his death.  And as terrible as it is, I'm grateful for it because I love who I am. 


3 comments:

  1. Oh Ash, so much feeling and emotions for you! My Dad died in 2009 when my son was only 2. We got to spend one last Christmas together while he was in pain and bravely fighting cancer. I do believe your Dad would be proud of his children. Look what you do everyday with your life, spreading kindness to everyone you meet. ❤️

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