My Dad

I miss my dad more than usual this year. The ache in my heart never quite goes away. The missing piece of me never heals or regrows. The sad little blue corner deep in my soul never quite goes away. His passing wasn’t unexpected, he wasn’t ripped out of our lives in a horrible unexpected way. He slowly progressed in his fight with Lou Gehrig’s disease – all 9 years worth. The medical staff at the local hospital told us we’d have 6 – 9 months, well my dad showed them.

Though physically he lost his battle, he was finally freed. He would finally have the much-needed rest his soul needed. We were left without our Tatus three years ago. The same weekend Adam and I went to Detroit to celebrate my mom and my father-in-law’s birthdays (well and Adam because you see they are literally three days in a row.) We were also announcing the impending birth of our first child. My dad pulled through, he pulled through the announcement. Though he couldn’t react, he was there with us. Though he couldn’t show signs of joy, I know his soul was whistling a happy tune. Be would become Dziadek Rysiu.

The next day he passed away, quietly in his sleep while Adam and I went to celebrate birthdays and our secret announcement with his family. My dad pulled along for so many years, I think mainly for us. He pushed through his days as his disease progressed, he never faltered. We all adapted to the new, yet ever-changing “normal.” We found joy in the little things and made memories the best way we could. Our time with my dad was precious, we made the most of it.

My dad & me circa 1980

My dad & me circa 1980

As we are getting ready to celebrate Adam’s 3rd Father’s day I think of what my dad would have been as a Dziadek Rysiu. Would he have treated Henry like a porcelain doll, like my dad treated me? Would he help Henry build forts out of blankets in the living room? Would he have tickle fights with him? Would he read him lots of books and use funny voices for each character? Would they play any practical jokes? Would he explain why the clouds differ from each other, why the sky is blue, why the trees shed leaves?

In a way he has, through me.

The ache in my heart ebbs and flows. The ache grips my soul and then relaxes like a slow heartbeat. I focus instead of my happy memories of my dad. The ones that give him color, life, and joy.  I remember his tall stature, his shy smile, he warm light brown eyes, his tanned skin. I remember his excellent story-telling abilities, his well-timed sense of humor, and general ease on existence whether by himself or in a crowd.

Oh sure, I have my weaker moments, where I look with envy at the dads with their kids, at the grandpas with their grand kids. But I am reminded that my dad, though no longer here, is still ever present in my heart and my memories.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “My Dad

  1. Beautiful and well said. I have no doubt his passing after announcing your exciting news about Henry was not a coincidence, he knew you married an amazing guy and were now going to be the caring mom he helped you become. A sense of relief and he could finally let go. I cant imagine how difficult it is to not be able to introduce Henry to his papa but he has a special grandpa angel that sees him everyday and watches out for him like no grandpa down here could. Chin up, we’ll get through it together 🙂 love ya!

  2. This is beautiful, Caroline. I know your dad appreciates your frequent visits to the cemetery with Henry. He is, of course, watching over Henry and continuing to watch over you. It is especially wonderful that Henry is learning about his Dziadek Rysiu and how amazing he was. Also, as Henry gets a little older, he will be able to read your heart felt thoughts in this blog.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s