Remembering Dad: 3 Years Later

Today marks 3 years since my dad passed. I think most everyone was shocked and caught off guard, despite years of declining health. I realize now he probably hid quite a bit in regard to his well being, or lack of. I last saw him about 2 months before his death, and while I thought he seemed better, in hindsight he had a sad look to his eye, like he knew something I didn't. He gave me a rock he'd found that was shaped like a heart. Said something along the lines of "I've been saving this for you because you're my heart." I wish I could remember what he said exactly. I was leaving and in a rush to get on the road heading home, and he stopped me right before I got in the car. What I wouldn't give to hold on to that memory a little tighter. To have hugged him a little longer. To have listened more closely.

In the midst of life, it's easy to move too fast, think too quickly, not soak up the details of what's going on around us. This is especially true in this phase of my life. Pregnancy is flying by. Even with blogging and writing on my calendar everyday like my Nanny used to do, details slip away. Conversations become less clear. My memory is generally foggy. I don't remember details very well. Sometimes I don't remember major plot points. I've always been that way. Things just don't stick like they do with some people. That is a large reason for writing this blog, or filling out my calendar. So I can look back and remember the mundane things that happened, along with the big ones. Partially I like to keep out of town family and friends abreast of what's going on in our lives, but mostly I write for myself. To supplement my own memory.

So today I write to remember my dad. To say his life and our relationship was complicated would be the truth. He went through some hard times around the end of my elementary school career, and they really impacted who he became and how he lived the rest of his life. I can't say I understand some of the decisions he made, or how he lived his life. I had a fair amount of trouble accepting things for a long time. It took his passing for me to really see things clearly, and to let go of a lot of frustrations and resentment. I don't mean this to be negative towards him or our relationship, just an honest assessment of how I felt. It makes me sad to admit that I felt closer to him after his passing than I did before. Before his death I had trouble remembering that he was human. He was dealing with hardship and life the best way he knew how, and since it was different from how I would have handled it, I didn't understand it. One of the beauties of life is the ability to be your own person. But this also creates boundaries between people who can't accept who that person is. 

But I understand now.

My dad was a great man. He loved me more than any other man has loved me before. (not to diminish Andrew's love for me in any way, but the way a man loves his daughter is a different kind of love). He supported me and cheered for me and sat through dance recital after dance recital. He tolerated my attitude as a teenager and accepted me for who I was - a moody teenager. He was able to look past my negatives, because I guess as a parent, that's what you do. He saw me with rose-tinted glasses, even in my darkest of times.

He passed along many lessons and qualities, and made me who I am, some from direct instruction, and some indirectly. My love of painting, caring for animals, knack for giving all people and creatures countless nicknames, my resilience, take-charge attitude and 'no bull accepted' view on life. He also helped teach me to be fun and carefree, to dig up the garden and plant new seeds. He sadly failed at making me very athletic or good at softball, but I won't count that one against him. He tried.

I hate that he missed my wedding, and that he won't be here to enjoy Hannah. He loved kids so much and mentioned on multiple occasions that grandchildren were on the top of his 'want' list. He didn't get to meet the amazing man that puts up with me, and sees me with those same rose-tinted glasses that he wore. He was never really crazy about any guy I brought home. No one was ever good enough for his daughter, but I know he would approve of Andrew.

The day of his funeral was tough. It's one of the hardest things I've ever gone through. But at the end of the service, when family went back to my aunt's house to visit and remember my dad, I looked out over the field and saw a rainbow. One of those signs when I needed it most.

He's with me. He sees the happiness Andrew brings out in me. He will watch Hannah grow up. 

Love you Dad,

Mickel