Sunday, June 19, 2011

A Year of Firsts

Today is the first Father's Day without him. 

As with everything it seems these days, whatever comes is the first. 

The first time we have to go through it all without him.

People tell me that it will get better.  That someday days like today will come and go, and I will reflect and be momentarily stopped in my tracks, then I will pick myself up and go on with life.

My Dad and Aidan, 2001
They say that.

And I am sure that they are right.

It's just getting there.

I'm grateful for the chance to have been his only little girl.

I remember dancing with my feet on his back then, and all those years later beneath the shade of the trees on the afternoon of my wedding.

He walked me down the aisle that day.  Proud, but not quite ready to let me go.  About halfway down the aisle, he leaned in and whispered to me that I could turn around and run and he'd be perfectly okay with that.  I could change my mind, even then.

He taught me how to ride my bike, he taught me how to live.  He held me steady, then let me go.  He let me fall.  He taught me to get back up and try again.  That failure was a part of learning.  That he'd always be there when I fell.

He picked me up and dusted me off, set me back on my path in life more than once.  He was never disappointed by my shortcomings.  Never questioned my choices.  Never said I told you so when those choices ended up being bad ones.  He just wanted me to know that he was there, only ever a phone call or plane flight away, in case I needed him.

He was selfless in so many ways.  Never wanted to impose or intrude on anyone.  He didn't want attention, he didn't want accolades.  He was terrible at asking for help, he didn't want to need anyone.  He didn't want anyone sacrificing anything for him, even at the end.

He wouldn't want anyone to be sitting around missing him today.  He would not want any of us to be sad.  He'd want us to share this day with our children.  To get back up again, dust ourselves off and get busy living. 

I'll go do that now.

I miss you, Daddy.

Happy Father's Day.

If Roses grow in Heaven, Lord,
please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Daddy's arms
and tell him they're from me.

Tell him, I love him and I miss him,
and when he turns to smile,
place a kiss upon his cheek
and hold him for awhile.

Remembering him is easy,
I do it every day,
but there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away 


  1. This brought tears to my eyes and heart. I am so sorry for the loss of your daddy. It is so hard, this missing of our daddies. Mine is still here, but a thousand miles away and very sick. Where you are now, I may be this time next year and my heart cries for all that have faced this and will. You're in my prayers as you grieve the loss of the first man in your life. He will always be a part of you and live on through you and your babies. I won't tell you that it gets any easier...we always need our daddies, always.

  2. What a great tribute to your dad. He sounds like an amazing man! Cherish the memories like the ones you described (the wedding story is too cute). I've been praying for you, and I will continue to do so!


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