"A person never really dies until they are no longer loved."
Unbelievably we've made it another year. Another year without him, another year of new memories that don't physically include him, another year missing him. But it's been another year feeling his love and watching for signs from another place.
Today, June 11, it has been three years since my dad passed away. See this post from last year, that still pretty much sums up my feelings and includes some pretty cool tributes to my dad.
Today I will reflect on all the memories I had with my dad, think of his smiling, twinkling face and cry tears of joy and sadness. I will feel his arms around me, listen to music that reminds me of him and wish we were all together.
A dear friend asked me last night what my favorite memory of my dad was. It was the perfect question, so genuine and sweet. I love when people aren't afraid to ask me about him or learn more about him through me. "Talking Bob/Dad" is the best way to keep him a part of all of us. So thank you dear friend, you know who you are and I love you.
(Circa 1980, I always loved being with my parents.)
With that question in mind, I thought I'd share just a few favorites with you:
- My dad LOVED music of all kinds. When I would go home for a visit, my mom, dad and I would have mini dance parties in their office. He'd be the DJ/lead singer and my mom and I would back him up. It was so fun, so carefree and those images are burned in my mind.
(Please excuse the horrible outfit on me, but this pic is just so us.)
- Floating on the lake at our family vacation spot, Twain Harte, best place in the world. He loved it and we would just float and talk about life or nothing at all.
- The way he would laugh when something really cracked him up, say like my brother, was contagious. It was a true belly laugh and his whole body would shake.
- The way he teased me. He decided one day that he would tell me the song "Stupid Girl." was about me. I'm sure I'd done something silly like work myself up over nothing. But I got so mad, which only made him push more. In the end, as weird as it sounds, Stupid Girl became a term of endearment. My dad could do that with just about anything.
- Our moment right before he walked me down the aisle. It was all ours. Peaceful and calm. I felt so secure holding his arm. Words can't express how thankful I am for that singular moment in my life.
There are so many more. But for me I'll just hold them close to my heart so I can be close to him.
It's a bittersweet day, because he should be here making us laugh, pushing our buttons, spoiling his grand daughter. But instead we will teach Super G all about her papa and we will see in her eye his sweet sparkle.
Today, I will find peace and I will look at my dad's pictures and smile. I will send hugs to my family who I can't be with today. I will reflect, I will love, I will honor and I will remember. He taught me that and so much more.