It’s been 26 years since I last saw my father. He was a short, handsome guy who was partially bald. He was the most fantastic man. Everyone loved him and he had many friends. He could fix anything, and he loved to garden. The little Chicago city lot next to our house was always abloom with the most gorgeous shades of color bursting from his rows and rows of dahlias and gladiolas. And he adored me-I was the proverbial ‘daddy’s girl.’ There were times when he was moody. For instance, I could tell how the day was going to go depending on the tone he used to say “good morning” when I greeted him in the kitchen. And when I assisted him in small jobs he always managed to lose his temper because I inadvertently didn’t do something right, but now I look back at those times with a smile. I was kind of dopey! What I do know more than anything is that he loved me and for that, I’ll be forever grateful. I don’t think I’d be the person I am today if I didn’t grow up with his love and encouragement. One thing I didn’t think would ever happen is that I’d lose him. As a little girl, I thought my dad was immortal.
There isn’t a day that has gone by since July 24th, 1982 that I don’t think of him. I was 18 when he died, and now, as a 45 year old woman there are still times when I’m sad and in a funk and long for him. I wish he were here to give me advise, hug my children or just see my accomplishments. I would have loved if he had the chance to have a wonderful relationship with my husband and it would have been interesting if we had the chance to watch each other grow older.
Dad, where ever you are, I hope you have the happiest Father’s Day. I hope you have the chance to be with us even though we can’t see you. Please, never stop looking down on me with those beautiful baby blues. I miss you more every day and love you more than a thousand sunsets-even still.