Today my Dad would have been 78 years old. I usually don't communicate more than I need to on this day every year. It's a day of melancholy that I allow myself to have. I'm not very social or productive in the days leading up to this one day. It is only the third time I've come here without him.
My Dad was the only one that shared my love of family history. He was always interested in what I had found and always asked how things were going. He never stopped me when I would get started on a story. He loved to hear. At least he made me feel like he did.
I miss him in so many ways. I miss him because he was my hero, always there ready to save me, sometimes from myself. He was my champion; stood by me through it all. Always strong; always steady. He was warm and loving; always saw life as an adventure, always looked ahead.
When he took his leave of this life, it was such a shock to all 4 of us. The stroke took him without warning or hesitation. We'd never seen him weakened, nor infirm. He was like his beloved mountain, strong, unshakable and unchanging. We never thought of life without him. He left with a great swiftness that left us all breathless and shocked. Time has forced me to look at it; to be grateful that a man unable to sit down for more than 15 minutes at a time and could never tolerate the slow, painful path that age forces many to take, simply sat down in his chair and left after a busy morning in his garden. There is a terrible gratitude inside me that he never knew suffering or infirmity. But he is loved and missed so.
Though my mood is pensive and my thoughts so far away I know with certainty that the sun will again rise and a new day be born. This year it feels different. Just as painful. But this time it feels like life is a tiny crocus forcing it's way through half-frozen earth and snow; upwards to open itself and blaze color in a cold, sleeping world, paying homage to the sun; heralding in a new, joyful cycle of growth and warmth, once again a chance to begin anew.
So, when this day comes to a close I will get up and begin the process of catching up on tasks I put aside so that I could mourn. And I will catch up; life will go on. I will try to get the memories out of my heart and onto paper so that all those unknown and yet to be descendants will have a sense of who he was.
Rufus L. Brock
March 2, 1931 - June 14, 2006
March 2, 1931 - June 14, 2006
And so it goes. I'll be here, same time next year.
9 comments:
Sheri, I know how you are feeling, when I blogged about my dad yesterday, I had to stop and take a break because I couldn't read what I was writing, I was so teary-eyed, it was very emotional. They say time makes it better, but it doesn't. I still miss him as much today as I did ten years ago, even more, because there are so many questions I have now about his life, that went un-asked when he was here. Now I'm crying again....
This is a wonderful tribute; thank for sharing these great memories.
Beautifully written Twigs. One of your best to date. My father was only 52 when he died. That was in 1988. I still miss him every day.
Tributes are difficult to write but they are so enjoyed by people like me - you did a great job on this tribute to your father.
What a beautiful tribute to your father, Sheri. He and my father share a birthday, although your father was born a year later. I wish you more and more memories that leave smiles instead of tears.
Sheri ~ This was so beautifully written - and so moving. My own parents are in their 70's now and I so try to cherish every moment I have with them.
While I can't imagine how hard this day is for you, I think it's wonderful that you can focus on the fact that your father left while he was still strong and active. Corny as it sounds, I love that scene in Second Hand Lions where the nephew and sheriff talk about the uncles 'dying with their boots on.' It's how we'd all like to go, but that doesn't make it easy on those still here.
Sheri, this was wonderful. What an honor to your father. I know it is a very difficult time, may tomorrow be filled with flowers and bliss. Your father is with you always.Remember all the wonderful times you shared.
Thank you all for your wonderful comments.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful! What is it about fathers and daughters? Thank you for sharing your father with us.
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