Tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of the death of my dad. August is always a hard month for me…my Dad’s birthday was August 10; he had a heart attack a few days after his birthday in 2006; he had heart surgery on August 17; he passed away on August 20, 2006.
I had a difficult relationship with my mom, but the opposite was true of Dad...I was a real Daddy’s girl. I was a tomboy & loved to help him work on cars. We would dig around in the garden for hours & we built kites together. My brother wasn’t interested in those things, so I think I was the “son” that Dad never had. I'd even go to the grocery store that he managed to help him close up at night. We could hang out together for hours & never say a word to each other, but the silence was that comfortable feeling you have when you are with your soul mate.Dad & his baby brother James
around 1936
My dad was the most handsome, nicest man I've ever known. In my whole life, he never said a cross word to me and never raised his voice. He always told me I was his girl. When I became an adult, every year we had a casual competition to see who could grow the best tomatoes. I still laugh when I think about my dad, around 2004, sheepishly admitting… well... Yes…I had finally beaten him in the tomato contest! Dad in the Coast Guard
around 1948
Dad & I were very close, and when he died unexpectedly after heart bypass surgery, I was devastated. I had been with him the day before at the hospital and the doctors
told me he was doing really well. I remember as if it was yesterday…my mom calling me on my cell phone at 6 a.m…she was literally screaming at me to hurry to the hospital, that my dad was dying. Hub and I rushed to the hospital, which was about 45 minutes away. When I got there, he was already gone and I literally fell on the floor of his hospital room with grief. A True Scotsman...
Just look at those legs!
Life goes on, but after 3 years, I still catch myself..."I should ask Dad what he thinks" about this or that. And then I remember that I can't do that anymore.
So now that August is here, I wanted to tell you all about my Dad.
So now that August is here, I wanted to tell you all about my Dad.
Dad and I with one of our dogs
around 1982
Dad, I miss you so much. I feel so lucky that you were my Dad, and I still think about you every day.
And I’d just love to know how your tomatoes are doing in heaven!
around 1982
Dad, I miss you so much. I feel so lucky that you were my Dad, and I still think about you every day.
And I’d just love to know how your tomatoes are doing in heaven!
Dad and I in 2000At Mom & Dad's 50th Anniversary Party
He looks like a really nice man :)
ReplyDeleteI know it's still hard. I still think about my mom every single day and it's been over seven years. I like to think nothing will ever hurt that bad again. Thanks for sharing your dad with us :)
sending you my thoughts and prayers today.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful tribute to your Dad, Graciela.
ReplyDeleteHe sounds like a very special man.
Thinking of you ...
What a lovely and loving tribute. Will be thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteNow the tomato contest means even more. :-)
ReplyDeleteHe is so handsome with kind eyes. He looks like an anchorman...someone you could trust. Love the pictures of you and your dad. I feel the same way about mine.
Wonderful tribute to your Dad. I understand completely. I still miss my Daddy. He dead of a massive heart attack one morning when he got up to go to work. He was 56; I was 11.
ReplyDeleteNice tribute. Still miss my Dad too, and I was no where near as close to my dad as you were to yours.
ReplyDeleteBe kind to yourself today. Do something that would have made your dad happy. I bought a new pair of shoes on my mom's Bday a couple of weeks ago. She would have certainly approved!
{{hugs}}
A Scottish poem for you and your Dad...
ReplyDeleteSummer Sun
Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
*sniffle*
ReplyDeleteI loved reading about your Dad. Thanks for sharing him with us.
(((HUGS)))
What a beautiful tribute!
ReplyDeleteThis is a tough one for me to read since I've been estranged from my father for 10 years. Our relationship used to be a strong one, but no longer.
Hugs to you!