This morning Owen and I enjoyed a good half hour at the park by ourselves before other families began trickling in. The first family to join us was a couple and their son around Owen's age. With them was a set of grandparents. The grandpa was wearing the most ridiculously awful shirt - a difficult-to-describe hybrid of a hawaiian shirt with Tigger on it. Something a grandpa would wear on a day he is being a grandpa, and it was beyond adorable.
I've never been one to wish for a different set of parents. Certainly as a teen I am sure I had moments where I wished I could disappear, but in general Erin and I knew we were the envy of our friends where parents were concerned.
By contrast, I certainly wish for different circumstances for all of us sometimes. I know our lives are blessed and I am grateful for everything I have without a doubt. But sometimes when I see a grandfather playing with their grandchild, I miss the kind of grandfather my Dad would have been if he wasn't ravaged by dystonia and whatever else has taken him. Kids loved my Dad back in the day - he was magical with them.
I've heard people talk about mourning the loss of someone who is still alive, and I certainly relate to that. The generous lovable Dad I grew up with is still in there, but he is missing so many of the twinkling, dynamic qualities that made him one of my favorite people to spend time with. I am sorry that my boy and Keith will never know that person. Times like today I am so overwhelmed with that sense of loss.
There are lots of things that make me sad about it - the loss of my Mom's companion & the way their life used to be, the loss of his independence and full life. And sometimes I am just sad for me.
I really miss my Dad today.
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7 comments:
Hello, my dear. Yes, I miss him too. I miss his comfort and gift with babies, his expansive generosity,his kitchen naziness, how much he loved being a host. I miss him too
Hello, my dear. Yes, I miss him too. I miss his comfort and gift with babies, his expansive generosity,his kitchen naziness, how much he loved being a host. I miss him too
Hi honey. Big hugs from me.
It's easier and easier to forget what he was like..it's like the real person dad was is slipping away with time but there are those moments it takes your breath away how much you miss him. And you wonder how different things could have been if only.... And I find myself so cynical much of the time about how he is and who he has become. But as you said, there are many things out of our control and as much as some of them SUCK, we wouldn't necessarily change them, even though they make things harder--I know that is certainly true for dystonia and me.
It'such a challenge to remember the best of him. He was the best softball coach for all of us. He sometimes gave the BEST advice. He stepped up-- he was the parent nursery participant when he was also working full time and getting his MPH. He got in fights with Kim Etzell's mother and Michalka (perhaps uselessly)to defend his daughters.He gave into your arguments, Erin, to spend the night with what's -his-name. I forgot his name (sorry) but remember Dad'coming in after the conversation with you and saying "I lost." I do, even in my crummy moments, think about how much he showed up as a dad. As painful as it is, we need to remember who he was when he could be all of himself.
I do remember. It's hard to remember everything, and I'm sure that each of us will remember different things about him, but I do remember. I remember how he would give me the best bite of his dinner to see my face when I registered how delicious it was. I remember wanting to share the best things with our friends and guests. I remember how mad he would get at Erin and I when we were mean to the other. I remember sneaking out to Nations with him when he was supposed to be eating well, and oving that he liked breaking the rules with me. I remember his sweeping the porch at Tuolumne, in this obsessive way, every yera. I remember how he would wash a dish before you were even done with it. I remember he would make us pancakes and eggs for dinner when you worked late. I remember how obnoxiously pedantic he could be, but I miss it sometimes. I remember watching baseball with him. I really miss him lately. He was such a fantastic, amazing Dad. He's still there, he's just different. I still see it sometimes, but not enough.
Remembering Tuolumne makes me laugh. We had a "Tuolumne box" with Dad's required items in it--all things involved with organizing the tent, keeping it clean, and setting it up for cocktail hour. Yes, it was both funny and drove me crazy that Dad would leap up as soon as HE was done with dinner and start cleaning up rather than hang out with us. He was a unique Dad. The Sticker King.
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