January 21, 1970 – I don’t remember much about the actual day other than my brother Paul and I were in our big bed with my sister Monique who was asked to tell us about Dad’s passing. I can’t remember if Mom was in the house, or at the hospital but I remember the actual moment the three of us sat on the bed. My brother was 5, my sister 16 and I was 9.
This was 45 years ago today. Growing up with out a father was difficult and challenging. There is a special relationship that daughters have with the first man in their lives and the relationship I had with my Dad was far too short of time. Not one special occasion went by without my thinking of him and wondering how that event might have been with him there.
The more important events certainly made me miss him even more, but over the years the grief made room for remembrance. I still have moments where tears appear and the yearning to have just one more day with him, as unrealistic as this may be, becomes a dream.
I have a very strong belief that when we die our essence-spirit-core is still present, not in a human mortal way but in other less obvious ways. A gentle wind that brings on the faint smell of Old Spice, the feel of his crisp Air Force shirt on my cheek or the warmth of his big hugs. Memories, no doubt, that come on for no special reason but to remind me of him.
Today I was going through some quotes about grief, trying to find one that resonated with me. Pages and pages of quotes just didn’t seem to mean anything to me until I read this one:
“When those you love die, the best you can do is honor their spirit for as long as you live. You make a commitment that you’re going to take whatever lesson that person was trying to teach you, and you make it true in your own life… it’s a positive way to keep their spirit alive in the world, by keeping it alive in yourself.” – Patrick Swayze
I couldn’t have said it better… My father has always been, and always will be alive in me, in my heart, and in my soul.