Sorry I haven’t posted in forever.
There’s been a lot going on, and maybe by the end of this post, you’ll forgive me.
I will never understand why people die.
Especially at 68, 67, and would’ve turned 52 today.
You see, on November 13, 2013, I lost my dad.
By no means did we have a perfect relationship.
We were close, but not in a traditional way.
We could have left things in a terrible way, and then the next time we saw each other pick up like nothing had ever happened.
Through his death, I learned several things.
First, when you are at someone’s deathbed, you forget about everything they ever did to hurt you, and all you remember are the good times.
Like my dad, who had tea parties with me, painted my toenails, and reassured me that the ghosts I was seeing in his house were friendly.
Next, I have learned that life is not a fairy tale. Just because I have an evil step monster, does not mean that I will be avenged in the end. Sometimes, unfortunately, bad wins over good. I believe my dad knew this better than anyone, but continued to embrace life by going snorkeling, skydiving, and other things I would never attempt.
I have also been reminded of the fabulous community I am surrounded by.
Best friends who will text you while they’re in class because they are worried about you.
And best friends and their family that take you to Waffle House after funerals.
Second Mommas that let you stay at their house, or come by on the way home from Fort Valley.
Sweet friends/coworkers who bring you nice chocolate in a Bare Bulb cup.
Cousins that constantly check to make sure you’re okay.
Godparents who are willing to take down step monsters for you.
Brothers that will find you when you’re upset and grab onto you and won’t let go.
Family. That one speaks for itself.
Looking at these pictures, it’s hard to believe that that’s the man that I watched for so many years be strong, that succumbed to weakness in that hospital.
I am so privileged to have been (with my brother) the last person to see him conscious.
He couldn’t speak to us, because of the ventilator, but I could read in his eyes.
He was relieved to see us there, and that is a precious gift.
So today, on what is to the outside world Pearl Harbor day, I ate a piece of birthday cake to celebrate the life of the man who made my life possible. We had our issues, but I always knew that if I needed something, he’d have been there in a heartbeat.
He is the only man I have ever known that has never made a comment about my weight and never made a comment about me personally being insufficient for being a girl. That’s a gift that he never knew he gave me.
Daddy, I miss you.
I wish you were here to see your sweet nieces.
I wish you were here to celebrate my success in college with.
I wish you were here for your momma.
She misses you.
We all do.
Thanks for everything you did for me, Will, and the rest of the family.
And we all know that Auburn won the SEC Championship just for you. 😉