I don't know what the deal is. This week seems to be the week that I'm thinking about my dad an inordinate amount. Quelle surprise. This is likely the outcome of having suppressed it for a prolonged length of time. I have this need or desire to write down all of my memories of him in case I forget them. The pie on the roof of the orange Corolla. The time he took my brother's BMX bike off a jump and landed on his ass. Him jack-knifing and cannonballing off our diving board. The time I couldn't pay my rent and he offered me $1,000 cash to get through it.And then I think, this was just me and him for 31 years. What about my mom? They were together since they were fourteen - almost fifty years. I go for runs in Vancouver and think "that's where my dad was a lifeguard" or "that's where my dad played tennis against the backboard" but my mom walks through there and thinks "this is where we grew up and lived and were going to retire".
I have this incredible fear that if I love or need anything too much it will be taken away from me. It's a really palpable fear in my life.
And I think my dad wouldn't want me to be like that. He wasn't like that. God. He'd really want me to stop whinging.
Ha.
Fear.
On one of our of our last days together he was dangling down the chimney of our house at Lasqueti and my job was to call 911 if something went awry. On one of our last days together I couldn't see his kayak and I looked back and there he was, cracking a beer on the Pacific, his paddle balanced expertly and, in retrospect, what was my hurry?
4 comments:
Could I get some kind of tissue warning? I feel for you, dealing with your memories, I don't recall going through that, of course I lived miles away from my parents and had small children and a husband to help occupy my thoughts when I was going through this. I do recall one time when my sister and I were at my Aunt's house and the neighbor strolled across her yard and we both gasped because he looked just like our dad. We both burst into tears and my Aunt said she dealt with that everyday. (Crap I've got to bring some Kleenex out here on the deck.) People will tell you "it'll get better." Just keep remembering these thoughts, they don't go away and you won't need to write them down. With time they'll just become sweeter and instead of feeling sad you'll be glad you have them and you'll begin to smile about them.
Revisiting Dad is a good ting that never ends. I'm almost old enough to be your Dad and I still go through it with my own memories of my father. You are a great daughter and a lovely person. If my daughter ends up being like you, I will be completely happy and honored.
You are the best kind of Duder.
Yeah, it's a weird and random process, so I just kind of try and take it as it comes.
I cry and feel sad and bereft, but I feel better when I get it out.
I miss my dad a lot and I sometimes have a hard time understanding how such an interesting, exciting, adventurous and vibrant person can be here one minute and gone the next.
But I guess he's not gone as long as I keep thinking about him, which I will.
It's great that you had a good relationship with your dad and have lots of happy memories.
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