This post is a tribute to my Dad who passed just last year (March 13th, 2013). It is so hard to believe it has been a year already. In many ways it feels like just last month. I hurt deeply from the loss of my dad, it seems so untimely and sometimes to put it rather honestly it seems unfair. Every day I think about him, and it hurts so bad to think he is really gone. Every day in a sense gets harder, longer in time since I last heard his voice, felt his hug, or heard his laugh. He was an avid fisherman, taking me for trips often when I was a kid. Sometimes right after he worked (third shift mind you) he would whisper through my bedroom door “Hey’ ‘Ash’ Wanna go fishing?” I would then pull myself from the dark warm bed. Now those memorys are sealed– The smell of a hot lantern and coffee still play through my mind as a memory to those late night fishing trips. Sometimes we would go through the drive through and he would buy me a coke cola and he would buy worms for our bait. Just two weeks before he unexpectantly passed he had stopped by and I showed him a short home video of my husband and I fishing ( you can watch it here).
I now wonder if he realized how much the sport of fishing had became ingrained into my life and consequently my husbands. It is funny the things we regret, one of which to most may sound silly. That day when he came over I was sitting on an air matress, with a knock at the door Stefan answered and it was dad, having been so long since I seen him I held back enthusiasm when I saw him because I was inwardly dissapointed and hurt he came over so little. I still desired affection and importance in my dads life and it hurt to not see him for so long. So my lack of enthusiasm was I think my way to show I was being a big girl getting along without him. To this day I reget that.
There are things I remember about that day, most are very good memorys but some are sad, being the last time it is so bittersweet.
My dad many times would bring me along on indiana trips when he would go to visit his mom, being young I really could not wait to get to my aunt Angies, my cousin and I were very close then and we always had so much we wanted to do and there never seemed to be enough time. My Dad would kind of try and tame my enthusiasm, I believe he probably knew I would not go unless I were able to play at my aunts house. Being so young and active sitting and visiting was not so much my thing as a kid ( now I love to sit and visit, boy do times change!).
My dad grew up in indiana, just before getting married he moved to ohio to establish a job that my dads uncle Bill had arranged. Of the things he liked to do beyond fishing he loved working with wood, I believe sawdust was in his veins. And he was really good at what he did. I think he saw carpentry in the family while growing up so he was a natural at it. He was a very funny guy, make just about anyone laugh, when he told stories he had a way of making them far more hilarious, his facial expressions, giggles and eyes could always tell the tail and have everyone rolling.
Ughh, even writing these fond memories hurt so deeply. I could not tell them if it wern’t for these puff kleenex’s and the ability to type. Talking is much harder. Never fear though, Puffs on the coffee table, and i can grab them at my leisure, haha.
I think one of the most hurtful things about loosing dad is I never was able to know who he truly was from the inside out. I mean I knew him, but I desired to know him so much better. A year or so before he died I told him how much I loved him. And things were much better and deeper since. I don’t know this for sure, but I think my Dad was dealing with a whole lot, I remember him losing his mom. That was the first time I EVER seen my dad cry. To think of it breaks my heart. The distance between his dad and lack of visits I assume was tough as well. He had no siblings (though he had step siblings) after losing his mom, grandma, and aunt I am sure there did not seem many left in his family tree. This feeling I have from losing him I can correlate. I truly at times feel like an orphan. Sad but true. I wish I could have been there for him more. I will never know what that could have done. Whether it would have changed things in any way. Whether it would have made life for him or I better. It is hard to pick up so many broken pieces. I had a hard time understanding what it was, why it was or what I could have done. Only the Lord knows. I do know though how my Dad knew how deeply I loved him, and I knew how deeply he loved me. I would I have loved to go back and do a do over. But God does not allow that. One thing I hold on to is that my Dad told me he would make doubly sure to be where he needed to be so we could all spend eternity together. And I am holding on to that. Actually after most all people left the graveside service at my dad’s burial I laid my head on his wooden oak casket knocked on its side and reminded him of his word to me about that. Eternity sure would change things. Everything thats broke gets fixed there. You left to soon Dad, I miss you beyond measure, please don’t forget what you told me, I want to see you again.
#Forgiven #Jesus #Thereishopeinhisname
18 The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.