This week would have been Dad's 63rd Birthday on February 5th. It also marks 4 months since his passing. I know this week will be difficult for me and those close to him so I thought I'd post a lighthearted story about a time us kids were introduced to Dad's twin brother Randy.
Since Dad has passed he has found subtle ways to say hello to me almost every single day. I catch glimpses of him looking back at me in my son's face/chin. A memory will pop into my mind of a trip we went on or something silly he would always say. A song will play on the radio that brings him to mind. Oddly enough I almost catch the clock at 11:11 or 1:11 every single day and for some reason I think of Dad. He never seems very far away. It is hard to explain, but it seems like his accident was so long ago and like it was just yesterday all at the same time. In church its almost like I can still hear him sitting next to me using his church voice, getting frustrated by how high it is and then lower an octave and switching back and forth. There are days I am sitting out at the farm and swear he should be walking through the door at any minute and asking what we'd like to have for lunch. I feel happy, sad and angry all in one. Happy for the time we had, sad for the time we should have had and angry that we can't have him back.
Grieving is an odd thing because we all do it so differently. I'm still figuring this whole thing out. When to be strong, when to be sad, when to hold on, and when to let go... Most importantly right now I want to focus on being the kind of person Dad would be proud of. Putting others before myself, being a good parent, loving my husband, and cherishing time with family because I think that truly is how to honor his memory. That and buying myself an Almond Joy and eating it slowly so I can enjoy it.
Until we meet again, I love you and miss you "Old Man". Happy Birthday!
Julie G.
As long as I could remember Dad has always worn glasses and had a mustache, a beautiful mustache. Anyways, I can't remember our exact ages, but Dad decided he was going to get contacts and what a great time to play a trick on his kids. Not only did he try out contacts but he shaved his mustache, came and rang the front door bell and had Mom introduce him to us as Dad's twin brother Randy. All three of us began crying inconsolably until Mom & Dad had to convince us that it was actually Dad standing there and not his twin brother. This was the one and only time I ever remember seeing Dad without his mustache or glasses. Soon after he went back to his signature look and stayed that way much to our relief.
Since Dad has passed he has found subtle ways to say hello to me almost every single day. I catch glimpses of him looking back at me in my son's face/chin. A memory will pop into my mind of a trip we went on or something silly he would always say. A song will play on the radio that brings him to mind. Oddly enough I almost catch the clock at 11:11 or 1:11 every single day and for some reason I think of Dad. He never seems very far away. It is hard to explain, but it seems like his accident was so long ago and like it was just yesterday all at the same time. In church its almost like I can still hear him sitting next to me using his church voice, getting frustrated by how high it is and then lower an octave and switching back and forth. There are days I am sitting out at the farm and swear he should be walking through the door at any minute and asking what we'd like to have for lunch. I feel happy, sad and angry all in one. Happy for the time we had, sad for the time we should have had and angry that we can't have him back.
Grieving is an odd thing because we all do it so differently. I'm still figuring this whole thing out. When to be strong, when to be sad, when to hold on, and when to let go... Most importantly right now I want to focus on being the kind of person Dad would be proud of. Putting others before myself, being a good parent, loving my husband, and cherishing time with family because I think that truly is how to honor his memory. That and buying myself an Almond Joy and eating it slowly so I can enjoy it.
Until we meet again, I love you and miss you "Old Man". Happy Birthday!
Julie G.
