Tomorrow marks the 33rd anniversary of my father’s passing.
It’s always easy for me to remember how many years it has been since it’s
always how old I am at the time. He passed away just two months after I was
born.
I always felt a little sorry for myself – growing up without
a dad. Nowadays, a lot of children don’t have fathers in their lives but way
back then most people had a mom and a dad. I felt like I was missing out on
“dad” stuff. I imagined how awesome my dad was and how we would be living the most
cool life ever if only he was alive. As a parent now, I realize it
wasn’t me that anyone (including myself) should have ever felt bad for – it was
my dad and mom.
I can’t imagine having a pregnant wife and learning that I
had Melanoma Skin Cancer. I can’t imagine battling through chemo and surgery
during a time when I should be happily painting a nursery. I can’t imagine missing the
birth of my child because I was in the hospital fighting for life. I can’t
imagine knowing that I would miss my child’s first words, first steps, and
every step after that. I can’t imagine knowing that I would be leaving behind
my beloved wife with a two year old and a two month old to take care of on her
own. It is all simply unimaginable yet it’s what he had to deal with.
As for my mother, I can’t imagine caring for a toddler,
carrying a baby inside of me, and watching my husband die. I can’t imagine the
sorrow and the fright of not knowing what my future holds. I can’t imagine
knowing my husband would never walk through the door again. I can’t imagine
knowing that I had to do it all on my own. I can’t imagine not getting my
happily ever after.
The whole situation was really just horrible. It’s only now
as an adult (and parent) that I truly recognize how remarkable they both were.
I only wish they were here for me to tell them.
A note my father wrote to my mother in college. She saved it and then passed it along to me. |