Anniversary

Today is the one-year anniversary of my dad's death.
My dad was a great guy. He was heroic and smart and funny in a way you wouldn't expect someone so smart to be. I miss him a lot. I miss the man he was before he had the stroke that eventually took his life. I miss having his advice available to me. He was great at giving advice because he never bullshitted. He would always tell me exactly how he felt about something. That's so rare. He was never trying to spare my feelings or curry favor when he told me what he felt. I miss that.

I had to give the eulogy at my dad's memorial service. I practiced and practiced but never once got through it without breaking down and crying. The minister at my parents' church, Megan, told me that if I had my words on paper, she would break in and finish for me if needed. But when the time came and I started to cry, she was crying too. In fact, most of the people I looked at from the pulpit were crying. My dad was really loved. He would give you the shirt off his back and he always wanted to see the best in the people he loved. He was a great cheerleader when you were succeeding and a comfort when you failed. Although he was not above an occasional "I told you so."

A lot has happened in the year since he died. One of my brothers, who is mentally ill, has declined considerably. I am grateful that my dad is not here to witness it. I was unemployed when my dad died and now I have a job. I have a new place to live. I have had probably the most tumultuous year of anyone in my family and it has highlighted for me that without my dad, my family is not as cohesive a unit as it once was. I'm glad he was not alive when one of my brothers not only refused to let me stay with him when an apartment I was planning to move into became unavailable at the last minute, but actually became angry with me for even having the temerity to ask. I'm glad he is not alive to know that my mentally ill brother has divorced his wife and only infrequently visits his young children.

I'm sorry that my dad isn't alive to know that after the hardest year of my life, things are finally looking up and I am feeling happy and strong again for the first time in many, many months. I'm sorry he wasn't here for his granddaughters' birthdays or for his 31st wedding anniversary or for his birthday and Father's Day. In his absence, my mom has become the stalwart. She has learned to live alone. She has driven from Tucson to San Jose by herself not once but three times. She has reconnected with many of her friends after spending two years caring for my dad while he was in his decline. She has in some ways really come into her own. But I know that she misses my dad every day and that she would give anything to have him back with her.
I hope that if the time ever comes for me to display immense amounts of grace under pressure, I can be even a small bit like my mom was in the face of my dad's stroke and eventual death. She was amazingly kind and loving even when my dad was not very loving. She lost her best friend and I know how devastated I would be in that circumstance, but on top of that, she had to be strong for five children. I admire her for the way she handled herself.

So today is not my best day. I find myself fighting tears every once in a while -- they just sneak up on me. But I know that this is how we grieve -- in stages. And I know that remembering our loved ones after they've left is is the way we keep them alive in our hearts and minds. The memories we have of those who have passed away are the parts of them we keep forever with us.
My dad shaped so much of my character and gave me so many wonderful memories and today, on the first anniversary of his death, I just want to say that I loved him; that I miss him and that I am so very grateful for everything he gave me, taught me and showed me. I am lucky to have had him in my life.