The few last weeks I’ve been thinking of my Dad more often. It seems when I watch my husband and our nine year old daughter together, my own dad comes to mind. As I pondered thoughts I was trying to figure out what “things” my own father taught me as I grew up.
When I wrote this piece for his funeral I meant every word. Many things to be grateful for but yet a 46 year old daughter longing to recall exactly what he taught her is puzzling. My parents divorced when I was 11 and he was basically absent the couple years before that more or less. It’s hard to think of any of my daughters being without their fathers. Fortunately they all have had active ones their entire lives. I hope they realize what a blessing that is.
This post isn’t a bashing on my deceased father, it’s a thought process. It’s how I deal with things that fester and instead of letting them grow into something ugly, I’ll turn it into something good. That working through words will weave an acceptance to an area of my life.
I think he may have even been okay with it. Writing letters. I suppose he taught me that. After the divorce we wrote to one another. This was my only real connection with him. He didn’t get me every other weekend or call. He wasn’t much of a talker.
I recall playing poker with my Dad once, I’m sure there were other times too. I think I remember it so well because it was Christmas time and my brother and I ended up walking home from our grandparents house. His pickup broke down and it was freezing out.
There was the time Dad and I were in my Grandpa’s pickup. YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE came on the radio and he sang to me. It was funny. There was more turmoil than laughter in my childhood so this memory is very precious.
He didn’t teach me to ride a bike or even drive a car. Elementary and high school graduations he didn’t attend or the birth of my first daughter. The absence of him as I began dating was hard but I had a good replacement at the time. My step-father came into the picture when I was around 14. I still longed to have my Dad present in my life but Bob really was a good father figure.
I can look in the mirror and see physical traits that resemble my Dad. But as the youngest of his four children, the question what did he teach me that enables me to conduct my life the way I do is present.
Yesterday I was watching this music video, my Dad came to mind. I showed it to my youngest daughter, the one that seemed to “give him a new reason to live back in 2008” as my husband put it. Johnny Cash always reminded me of my Dad, the physical traits mostly and his size. As I watched the video with my daughter I couldn’t keep the tears away.
Almost three years and I still miss the man that I am not sure taught me much. I’m okay with that I guess. I am not so very curious for the words I have placed upon this post have brought acceptance I suppose. Hugs from that little girl he thought was pretty special made things better too.