"Not a good day today. First of all, I had to hurry in the shower and didn't get all the conditioner washed out. And my dad is home. That is NEVER a good day. Sometimes I wonder why he even comes home"
-a diary entry by 12 year old me
When I was younger (like 18 and younger) my dad was not my favorite. Horrible to say yes, but I was a Mama's girl. My dad used to try to get K and I out of my Mama's hair on Saturday mornings and I flat out refused to go with him. He and K made a cross country road trip. Again, I would not go. That long in the car with my dad AND my sister? Not happening.
As I entered my tween and teen years - things went from bad to worse. My dad traveled for work and was home on the weekends. I looked at those times as him intruding on our little family of Mama, K and I. I was mean to him and he wasn't always understanding of me either.
I'm stubborn. My dad was stubborn. We fought about EVERYTHING. Mostly food, but a lot of other things too. My Mama told me I needed to listen to my dad. I didn't. After all, who was he to waltz in our house and change our routines? I see now how difficult it had to be to come home to a bratty kid like me. It's a good thing I've grown up, eh?
I was a picky eater. I stopped eating red meat for a long time (like 12 years) and that pissed my dad off to NO END. The meat and potatoes guy and me who would only eat chicken. I stopped because of a stupid dream and didn't start again because it was kind of fun to make my dad that angry by simply refusing to eat something. Bratty attitude and I hope Gigi doesn't follow suit.
My dad and I were like oil and water. It was just best to keep us apart because if we were together it was likely to be explosive. I was a Drama Queen and he didn't handle that well.
The year I went to college...things started to change. My dad moved me into my dorm room, laid my carpet, put together everything that needed to be put together and then? They left. My Mama and my Daddy got in their green pickup and drove out of the parking lot as I looked out my window with the tears rolling down my face. How could they just leave and not be sad? I learned later that both of them were sad but put on pretty brave faces for me.
Living on my own in a dorm room - I learned to appreciate my dad a little. They would come down to look at houses (at this point they had decided to leave the town I grew up in and move to where my school was - I tease that it was because they missed me so much but there were various reasons) and I would have my dad fix something for me. I would need a new lamp, or my dorm room door didn't open properly (as an aside did you know that you can actually bring a circular SAW into a dorm and cut off the bottom of the door and no one will blink an eye at you??). They moved here and their new house became "home."
It wasn't just home for me, but also my friends. We would go to my parents house for a hot tub night, a grilling night (with my dad manning the grill of course) or just to go. My sophomore year of college I got really sick and was hospitalized for 12 long days. Those days I realized just how lucky I was that my family was not only living in the same town as me, but also were just THERE for me.
When I moved into a house off campus my dad became more and more handy to me. By this point - I realized that maybe he was a pretty cool guy and that he didn't deserve my brattiness when I was young.
Life went on. I kept realizing that maybe...just maybe...the reason that my dad and I fought so much was because of certain parts of our personality were alike. Stubborn much?
I didn't really appreciate my Daddy fully until the day that he moved Gigi and I out of our townhouse and brought us home. I never knew the strength he had or the fierceness of his protection until that day. I'd never needed to know it. But that day? He would've killed someone to make sure we were safe.
Gigi and I lived with Daddy and Mama for four years. Four years as an adult getting to know my parents...as adults. My Daddy was pretty cool. I looked to him for all sorts of advice. I looked to him as a mentor and not just my Daddy.
My Mama told me not long after Gigi was born that my Dad had told her, "She was ready to be a mom. She's going to be a good one. I'm proud of her." My Daddy? Was proud of ME. He was proud of the one thing that I think I'm good at. Being a mom.
I was proud of my Daddy. I didn't realize until after he was gone how many lives he had touched...how many people he mentored...or just how many people loved him. I loved him.
I am so happy that I was able to redeem my bratty kid self as an adult. I am happy that I left nothing unsaid to my Daddy. I am happy that he knew how much I loved him and how much I would miss him. I am happy to know that he was at peace at the end and knew he was headed for a better place. I am happy that I took the last few months of his life to appreciate my Daddy and realize how much he meant to me.
At least I thought I knew how much he meant to me. It wasn't until after he died that I realized just how BIG the whole would be in my life...in my heart...with him gone. I didn't realize how angry I would be that he was so young when he died and angry that he will not be around to be Papa to Gigi anymore. He was one of the good ones...he loved his grandkids just like he loved his kids. It's a shame I didn't see that love when I was a child, but do feel as though I see it now.
In the last few days I was not able to sit in my dad's hospital room like my Mama could or K could. I couldn't see my strong Daddy in pain or uncomfortable or just not HIM. I would go in every so often just to see him and tell him how much I loved him. I didn't want to remember him that way - but yet those are the most prevalent memories now. I hope someday that the memories that come to me immediately are happy ones and the bad ones are gone.
I haven't had the heart to have Gigi stop saying "God Bless Papa" in her nightly prayers. We do the old "Now I lay me down to sleep..." standard but add on our special God Bless's at the end. It's automatic to say "God Bless Grandma and Papa...K and P..." I just can't have her stop. He still deserves to be blessed in Heaven, right?
Wow! Needless to say tears came to my eyes reading this. It is so hard to lose a Parent. Hugs to you!
ReplyDeleteRhonda from OLU