Saturday, June 16, 2012

True story...

Father's day is always bittersweet.  My dad died suddenly of a massive heart attack at the age of 43.  I was nine years old.  There are a handful of days every year that remind me he's not here - father's day is one of them.

I posted a couple of the few photos of my dad on Facebook yesterday.  I found myself studying his face, his smile.  I wonder what he'd look like now.  I wonder what life would've been like had he not been taken from us so young.  I wonder if I make him proud.  The familiar sadness and emptiness began to fill my heart.  I wished I had more pictures of us together.  This picture is the only one I thought I had of us.  That's me on the left with my mom.



I woke up today and thought about my dad.  Then I instantly concluded that when I got home from the gym this morning, I would clean the garage.  The garage was a mess, and cleaning it in this Texas heat was sure to be an undertaking.  I even tried to talk myself out of it and laid down to nap this afternoon.  I couldn't fall asleep - I had to go clean the garage.

As I threw away old yellowed books and bar exam study materials from 1999, I came across a stack of long forgotten pictures in frames.  There were pictures of Ryan and I at our wedding, of friends and family.  Then I came across this and just stopped in my tracks...




He was listening.  Here was my reason for feeling that intense need to clean the garage today.  I needed to find this.  I also found this picture.  It is one of the last my dad took before he passed away.  It was the picture the accompanied his obituary.  This is how I remember him - happy, handsome.  That's my dad and I know he's still with me.


I believe in coincidence, but when coincidence is a wee bit too coincidental, I believe it is a sign.  I got one today.

Happy father's day daddy.



1 comment:

sbl said...

what a sweet post D. Your daddy is def smiling from above <3