Six years ago today, April 25th 2006, my father passed away. His life was cut too short. He was only 56 when he passed. I had just barely turned 20 years old.
I still remember the last conversation I had with him. He asked me when I was going to get married. At the time I wanted to finish college first, but after he passed college just didn't seem important anymore. I always wondered if he knew that was going to be the last conversation we would have.
Here is what I remember most about my dad. He loved playing pranks and scaring people. He once hid in a closet, sitting on a 5 gallon bucket, to try to scare someone and ended up falling asleep. He did things like leave the wrapper on a slice of cheese on someones cheese burger. He even once convinced my friend, who was 6 at the time, to eat a dog biscuit with frosting on it. He told him it was a cookie. He had the best sense of humor and everyone loved him for it.
Our favorite thing to do together was play board games, while eating peanuts, and watching TV. We always tried to get mom to play with us, but she could never sit still long enough to play more than one game.
Dad loved Elvis and his music. We even went to Graceland when I was really young. I don't remember much from the trip, but I remember the Jet and the Jungle Room of the mansion. My dad used to stay up with my mom till 3 or 4 in the morning listening to music and signing along with it.
My dad was a bit of a womanizer, but he loved my mom dearly. They always showed PDA, which I thought was disgusting at the time, but I think it's sweet now. For anyone who can be together that long and still show that much love, you have to appreciate that.
He always gave me whatever I wanted and I took advantage of that all the time. I would always know to ask him things when he was immersed in a TV show or movie. My dad loved television. He would concentrate on the TV so intensly that he wouldn't even hear what I asked. He would just respond sure. Once in awhile I would tell him crazy things until he finally started to pay attention to me. He would always cry during the sad parts or laugh so loudly at the funny parts. You could hear his booming laughter across the house. I miss that.
He said things to me like, "We'll do that second Tuesday of next week." Or "Are you the Dad of the girl or the girl of the Dad?" I still have no idea what that means, but I always gave a different answer.
You know, I have been told that as time passes it doesn't hurt as much, but that's not true. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss him. It still hurts to know he will never know how I turned out or see his grandchildren.
I've never lost anyone that close to me, but I understand how it feels knowing someone will never see how you turned out. I lost my grandpa when I was in 6th grade. It was one of those things that came out of nowhere. I knew he had heart issues, and they had been working on getting those fixed but one day, I was watching tv waiting for supper to be ready, and my mom sat down and told me that Grandpa had passed away. I'd never broken into tears that quickly or that intensely before, nor have I since.
ReplyDeleteIt's odd though, those little things you miss. I remember when we played bored games, which was rare, every time he rolled an 8 he said "Eighter from Decatur," or how he always called me little man. I was never a fan of that. He squeezed too hard when we hugged or shook hands, and I never cared for that. He sat in the same chair at the dinner table, in the den, and in the living room. When I was little, all of those things were traits I took for granted. Now, I couldn't tell you what I'd give to hear him call me little man one more time. To feel his arms squeeze so tight it hurts. To see him at the head of the table or sitting in his chair downstairs. I don't really believe in god, but I know that my grandpa is out there somewhere watching me. Somehow I know. And I'm sure your dad is watching you as well. And believe me when I say this, he couldn't be any prouder of you.