Thirteen years ago today my life changed drastically.
Thirteen years ago I today I went to check on my dad, after the kind Hospice nurse had cleaned him up, to find him cold and lifeless.
My sister Diana was there too.
We looked at each other and knew. No more morphine drip. No more wondering. No more waiting. No more hope.
No more fatherly advice.
No more bear hugs and unconditional love, the kind that only a dad can give.
I miss him dearly and oh how I wish that my kids could meet him.
I know he would be insanely proud of his granddaughters. I most certainly see traits in them that stem from him, like their love of music, movies, books and a good joke. I long to believe that he knows them from afar, from the place where he reclines in his big brown recliner in the sky, with a tumbler of vodka, listening to Ragtime music and cracking crass jokes with his buddies who have left this world too.
This photo was taken 20 years ago, at my sorority’s Father/Daughter dance. We drank and danced the night away. Oh, and we won the “Name That Tune” game. Of course we did.
I miss you and love you, Dad.