My Life would undergo great changes in the weeks and months to come. I didn't expect the older three siblings (first litter) to side and plot against the three younger siblings (second litter). I didn't expect the sister that I now try to care for on a fairly regular basis to treat us the way she did... to screw us over the way that she did...
But Death does strange things to families... I have an older brother with whom I haven't spoken since the day we buried Dad. I have another sister with whom I have just recently made the effort to talk to and see...
But to be quite honest, the damage has been done. If I never see them again in my Life, I will be quite ok with that...
My Dad is a young man in this photo. The building to his left is the remaining mule barn where he and his Dad bought and sold mules here in the Mississippi Delta back in the 30's... Behind him and down the street, you can make out the outline of what appears to be an early model Ford... And for the Mississippi Delta, that's a great deal of snow on the ground.
Dad, I am sorry... truly sorry... that I didn't figure out so many things sooner than I did. I should have made the decision to have forgiven you for some things before you had your stroke. You weren't perfect, but then again, none of us are. For so long, I had imagined you to be perfect... Maybe Mom shouldn't have shared a hurt that she suffered from you, but she did... and I shouldn't have been so hard on you, but I was...
In retrospect (it's always this way, isn't it?), I want to thank you for the wonderful work ethic that you taught me. I am who I am today because of you... and I mean that in the most wonderful way...
Maybe you didn't always make time for us, because you worked... you worked to raise your second family... after your first set of children with Mom had moved out and on with their Lives...
I remember Mom once telling someone that you two "had a set of kids for us to take care of... and another set to take care of us..."
I'm glad it worked out that way, Dad. You loved us the best way you knew how to love us... and you did... you did love us.
I have written this thing over and over and over the past few days... and haven't liked any of them... and I'm not sure this one does you justice. Dad...
I would give anything to be sitting in that old Hudson with you... driving over to the Mississippi River "to see what's going on..." and maybe we would stop at one of the old country stores that dotted the Delta back then... and we would go in and you would buy a rootbeer... These places would have the old ice boxes... they would load them up with drinks and ice early in the day... and by the time we would get there, the water would have partially melted... it would be with such great anticipation that we would open the top of that ice box, and see the drinks down below... and the icy water would be SO cold that it would take your breath from you when you would reach down into the box to get your drink.
It's the smallest things that I remember tonight, Dad... the smallest things that you would do for me that would tell me that you loved me... that you loved all of your children...
Fifteen years... in a way, it's been SO long, and yet, in another way, it seems it was only yesterday...
I had this dream a few years ago in which you and I were in San Francisco... on the City side of the Bay, and we were looking across over to the Marin County side. You asked if we could go over there and see that side of the Bay, and I told you of course we could, and I took your hand... and I felt you. I felt your presence that night, and I immediately awakened with a start. It was as if you were there.
I try to be the kind of Dad to my kids that you and Mom were parents to us... I hope I've succeeded... I would be terribly disappointed if I haven't been...
I miss you so much, Dad...
Each and every day...
I love you...
Your son,
~Jim~
That was lovely. As someone who is doing a lot of thinking about my dad, I ask you this: From the place that he is now... a Higher Place, a Place of All Knowing, what is the one thing you think he would want for you? You know he loves you. But what do you think he wants for you? And I totally think you were having that walk in San Fran together. Very cool.
ReplyDeletebeautiful, heartfelt tribute. thinking of you...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Shoesies ! Very emotional.
ReplyDeleteThat was really beautiful, thank you so much for sharing this glimmer into your thoughts, emotions, and life.
ReplyDeleteHow sad but yet a great tribute to your father.
ReplyDelete: )
I love this post.
ReplyDeleteAll my hugs and kisses and love to you today.
xoxoxo
robelyn
So beautiful Shoes...and odd how we are sharing this in a way. On Feb 21, 1996 my Nonna died of a stroke. She was like my mother. Her children, my dad, my uncle, and my aunt, have since come unhinged from each other. There was much in fighting over her stuff and you're right...the damage is done. I hear your heart Shoes.
ReplyDelete((Hugs))
~Annie
I constantly think about the pain that my ex caused me. For the reasons you outline above, I am very hesitant to share that pain with my kids because for them the truth isn't as important as my allowing them to love him for the good things. This was a great post. Probably therapeutic, too. :)
ReplyDeleteRock on, Shoes. What a lovely, honest, beautiful and meaningful tribute to your Dad.
ReplyDeleteSarah xxx
Oh Shoes...beautiful. I share so many of your thoughts and feelings. We were both so blessed to have good Daddy's. I hope and pray our children think of us as fondly and lovingly one sweet day.
ReplyDeleteCarol
I think this was beautifully written. A very sweet tribute to the man your Dad was and to the impact he had on your lives.
ReplyDeleteI am blessed to still have my Dad at age 89 so, I couldn't imagine the loss you felt at such a young age.
Hugs .. thank you for sharing this.
I think this is a beautiful tribute to your father. That you know you were loved and can recall the best things about him is a testament to his worth as a parent.
ReplyDeleteWonderful post to your dad.
ReplyDeleteBig hugs~
ReplyDeleteSorry about your Dad, Shoes. I've often said we don't get to choose who are parents are, some people win the parent lottery and others, not so much. It's a shame how some families fall apart after the parents are gone. The same happened in my ex's family. I'm glad to say that none of this happened between my brothers and I. We are actually very functional which isn't nearly as common as one might think.
ReplyDeleteMay your happy memories bring a smile to your heart.
Big hugs to you. I lost my Father back in 2002 and I have had vivid dreams too. It think it's their way of saying "hi". Great post xo.
ReplyDelete@ Robin... I am confident that Dad visited me. His hand had just a unique feel to it. I've offered up before that I have thought from time to time that I could be his Mom reincarnated...
ReplyDeleteAs for your question as to what Dad may want for me, I am not sure... I do think the universal message, however, is to continue to live ones Life... honor those who have come before us, and move forward. As for my Mom, she would tell me that I worried too much... Dad, on the other hand, probably would have told me me to get over it.
@ Magnolia... Thank you. I miss my Dad.
@ Senorita... Thank you! I hope all is well with you! :o)
@ Zoe, KittyCat, Gobbles... thank you all. :o)
@ Wine And Words... it's amazing how sometimes there is so much inter-lacing, inter-woven activities in so many of our Lives. Your Nonna sounds like she was a wonderful person. There are many lessons in Life if we just pay attention.
@ Stephanie, it was very therapeutic to write. Many times, when I write like this, I am looking for answers.
@ Misfits... Thank you!
@ Carol... I hope my kids will remember me kindly. Who knows...
@ Flying Solo, Nitebird, Kimberly, France... Thank you ALL!!!
@ Just Another Girl... You are right, we don't get to pick our family. It's a random hit-or-miss. Most of my family members I am ok with... Thank you. :o)
@ Marnie... Thank you sweetie...
~shoes~
So well written and so much of your heart in it.
ReplyDeleteI kept this unread all week until I had time to come back and tell you that.
I'm glad you had a good dad.
@ Ami... Thank you SO much... I can't explain it, but when I write these kinds of posts, they just kind of happen... they just write themselves...
ReplyDeleteAnniversaries are hard on me... I do miss my Mom and Dad so much....
Thank you...
~shoes~
Shoe's, that was awesome! I have tears reading this. No regrets!
ReplyDelete@ Danielle... thank you. I miss my Dad very much... and with some issues that my daughter has with her Mom, I am glad I'm the kind of Dad that I am... :o)
ReplyDelete~shoes~