Wow, it just dawned on me, that today - it has been a year.
Owning my own business and running it from home, I have a tendency to forget which day and sometimes even month, it is! And, in the last couple of days, I have had brief, but intense moments of sadness.
I realized that today is the 23 of September, and a year since my dad passed away. And even though our relationship was distant, I still miss him. I miss his phone calls on my birthday, and mine on his. I miss his intense blue eyes, and his great smile. Someone told me, just look in the mirror - but it isn't the same.
I think, the most difficult part, is not having anyone in the family to talk to about him. To remember anything with - to reminisce.
No, he wasn't the nicest person. He belittled, humiliated and publicly ridiculed all of us. No matter what we did, it was never enough or right. He never encouraged us in any of our endeavors. He abused us terribly, both physically and mentally.
He was also funnier than heck, and had a tremendous sense of humor. He worked hard, and regardless of what things were like, he did his best.
He was a philanderer, and cheated on my Mom numerous times. He had an affair for five years, and then left my Mom, like a coward, simply saying he was going away on a business trip. He never came back.
But, he did marry his paramour, and stayed with her until he died. He admitted to me once, that he had made a mistake. He made the best of it, and I think, he was happy. Or at least, complacent.
My dad was so judgmental of us kids - it was difficult to have a relationship. Us girls, well, unless we were married, he really didn't have any use for us. When we were married, we were invited over. When we weren't married, he didn't have any time for us. Sad - he missed out on some great kids - and some really wonderful grandkids too.
Regardless of what he wasn't, and what he didn't or did do - he was my dad, and I loved him. It was awful to see him dying, writhing in pain from the cancer eating him, and hallucinating from the morphine.
And regardless of how he treated us, he did love us. He just didn't know how to relate to any of us. The song "The greatest man I never knew" certainly pertained to him. And unfortunately, he never knew any of us either. And, as a parent and a child, that is sad for everyone.
We did have some good times. The picnics at John Lawson park on Sunday with his mother, my grandmother. The picnics and trips to town to Stanley Park. The camping trips to the Grand Canyon, to Utah and swimming in the Great Salt Lake. Visiting the Mormon Tabernacle and watching 'Oklahoma'.
It must have cost a small fortune with five kids, but he did it. Yellowstone Park - and so many other places, it's hard to remember them all. Losing the axle to the station wagon, and almost losing him and the tow truck over a cliff. (The tow truck lost it's brakes and another tow truck had to be called to tow it and our station wagon). Staying in a motel with a pool until the car was repaired. That was such a treat!
We didn't have many luxuries when I was a child, we had to work for everything we wanted. As soon as we learned to sew and we could babysit, we had to pay for our own fabric if we wanted something new. But we did work together. And played together.
He taught us how to ski, and took us up the mountains to stay in a cabin, where we we'd ski all day long. Oh, we didn't have rope tows or anything. We'd have to walk up the mountain and ski down, and we went to bed exhausted.
As he climbed the corporate ladder, things got easier. We had ski passes for a local mountain and went skiing every opportunity we could. The vacations, although still camping, became more adventurous.
When the creek beside our house overflowed and just about wiped out the neighbors house that lived below it, he woke us up in the middle of the night to help divert the creek. All of us kids was out there helping to make a makeshift barrier until the city could deliver sand and sandbags. My dad was the "laborer come executive" that knew how to divert the creek. All our neighbors were executives with no clue how to deal with it.
My dad didn't understand that I was more cerebral, and he didn't understand or appreciate my creativity. He understood mechanics and physical labor. He understood how to work with his hands. He didn't understand that artistry and graphics was also working with one's hands. He didn't understand inventiveness.
We had great family dinners together. We always sat down to the table, and we always had turns telling what went on in our day. There was always a lot of laughter at the table. We had super Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter dinners, with cousins and aunts and uncles.
And when he left, all that left with him. He divorced not only my Mom, but us kids too. His new wife would not allow him to have a relationship with us on his own. And he didn't insist that he would.
So, unfortunately, when he died, he died only with the new wife. He left some very angry children behind - children that won't forgive.
I know he wasn't perfect and that our family life was less than ideal. I have forgiven him, and I don't feel any anger towards him. I haven't for years. I know he did the best he could and the best he knew how with the tools that he had.
I just wish my sisters or brother could do the same, and not hold onto the anger or bitterness. I wish we could talk about him and remember the good times - the good things he did with us.
So for now, I will remember him and feel sad that he has been gone a year and remember the good times, his laughter, his teasing, and his great sense of humor.
Dad, I love you, and I miss you.
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