2 years ago today
I held my daddy's hand as he passed away. Two years. I wasn't sure I would get through 2 hours, much less 2 years. Knowing the condition he was in, I would never wish that he hadn't died ~~ if he had to live in the same condition. But oh if he could be here and healthy, I have a list a mile long of things I would love to do with him again.
First, I would love to hear him laugh - that great big, throw back his head and belly laugh, laugh. It was amazing. Or to get to kiss the top of his head when I passed by him. Or hug him with all my strength. Or to see his face light up as the kids and I would pile out of the car and run to greet him. Or sit with him on the couch and just wrap my fingers up with his and examine the hands I remember so well. The finger with the scar across the knuckle. The one that was crooked from being broken. I loved wrapping my fingers up in his.
I would love to go to the river and skip rocks. I would love to go riding around in his old truck, a drive that would always include impromptu made up songs about sights we saw. I would love to go fly a kite, take a camping trip, have a wiener roast or watch home movies. Or ride on the back of his motorcycle, clinging to him tightly, as I did when I was a kid.
I would love to sit with him in a restaurant while he flirted with the waitresses, young and old, and while he doodled on napkins and left little cartoons behind. I'd like to sit back and watch as he entertained kids with magic or card tricks that I'd seen hundreds of time, but never figured out.
I'd love to lay in the grass and drink lemonade and talk for hours, just like we did so many times when we were supposed to be working. And I would love to even be working with him. Building something or working in the yard. I long to hear him say, "If that don't be anything I ever did see." when something went wrong.
I would cherish a picture taken as he got to hold Benjamin for the first time. Or listen to him tell people how smart Sophie is for knowing how to spell her last name. Or how fearless Keegan is and how he copies everything Sophie does.
I would gladly sit for hours and listen to the same stories I had heard a dozen times before ~ they never got old to me. I would love to open the mailbox and find a letter from him. He sometimes just sent me random letters telling me how proud he was of me or complimenting me on my parenting. Those were really good mail days.
I would love to go to the river and skip rocks. I would love to go riding around in his old truck, a drive that would always include impromptu made up songs about sights we saw. I would love to go fly a kite, take a camping trip, have a wiener roast or watch home movies. Or ride on the back of his motorcycle, clinging to him tightly, as I did when I was a kid.
I would love to sit with him in a restaurant while he flirted with the waitresses, young and old, and while he doodled on napkins and left little cartoons behind. I'd like to sit back and watch as he entertained kids with magic or card tricks that I'd seen hundreds of time, but never figured out.
I'd love to lay in the grass and drink lemonade and talk for hours, just like we did so many times when we were supposed to be working. And I would love to even be working with him. Building something or working in the yard. I long to hear him say, "If that don't be anything I ever did see." when something went wrong.
I would cherish a picture taken as he got to hold Benjamin for the first time. Or listen to him tell people how smart Sophie is for knowing how to spell her last name. Or how fearless Keegan is and how he copies everything Sophie does.
I would gladly sit for hours and listen to the same stories I had heard a dozen times before ~ they never got old to me. I would love to open the mailbox and find a letter from him. He sometimes just sent me random letters telling me how proud he was of me or complimenting me on my parenting. Those were really good mail days.
I'd love for him to be able to make the same memories with my younger kids that he got to make with Andi and Zac. To be at their weddings. It would sure make me happy to have him at our house for holidays and family dinners, playing with the kids or even just napping on the couch. It was good to just know he was here.
And I would absolutely love for him to see the ice cream shop. I can remember going to Baskin & Robbins just about every trip we made to Evansville when I was a kid - to the Dairy Queen at Kentucky Lake every weekend when we would go boating - to Coach's Corner in Sturgis all the time for ice cream. That guy instilled a love of all things ice cream in his kids. I've never, ever, ever met anyone who loved ice cream more than he did. He would have declared having an ice cream shop in the family heaven on earth.
But things are what they are and all the wishing in the world isn't going to change that. So I have memories and lots of them to help me through the days. I have a picture of him that hangs by my back door that I see every time I leave the house. I have another picture at the shop of us together and still today, I sometimes get misty eyed when people comment on it. Truthfully, occasionally, I just downright cry.
My dad and I had a special bond. He was one of my best friends and I know he felt the same way about me. He told me so and I never doubted what he told me. He let me know a few years ago just how much my weekly visits to Illinois meant to him when he gave me this comic he had cut out of the paper.
I suppose I will miss him every day till the day I die -- but then, I will miss him no more because we will be together in Heaven ~~ and that's how I get through the days till then. Missing him, but having the assurance of seeing him again. I pray you have the same assurance regarding your loved ones.
