When someone you love becomes a memory,
the memory becomes a treasure.
the memory becomes a treasure.
~Author Unknown
How do I start, where do I start… One year ago today, March 22, 2011, I got up and came to work. It was just another Tuesday… just another day. Two days prior I had just talked to Mom and asked about Dad. Never in my wildest dream did I expect to get the call I got a year ago this afternoon. I guess it was about 5:45 – 6 pm Mom called me and I knew something was bad wrong when I answered the phone and Mom said “Will” … then she told me that she had come home and found Dad had passed away. I just went num… I felt nothing… I just walked around the house like a caged animal, unable to sit, unable to think… I guess it was a state of shock. My first thought was Lauren, she had just gotten out of the hospital from having problems caring Charlie and I was so afraid this news would cause her problems. I called Ginger and told her and told her of my concerns and she told me that she would go over and be with her and tell her… after that I called my closest friend, Chip, and told him and within 5 minutes he was over at my house to be with me.
When I left home that Tuesday morning never did I think anything like this, but I guess that’s life. We know that things like this happen, but we never think it’s going to happen to us. One year has gone by and I call Mom twice a day… it’s so easy to take thing for granted and to think tomorrow is a given, when in fact we have no promise of the next second or the next word so to speak.
I love going home to see Mom and spend time with her… I don’t see how she stands it. When I walk in and see Dad’s empty chair and know it’s always going to be empty my heart still breaks. Oh I hide it from Mom… I walk around outside a lot, alone. It’s has been hard, but I think it would have been harder on me if Dad had been bed ridden and in constant pain. I think of this and in a strange way it makes me feel better—well somewhat—or at least this is what I tell myself.
Life is strange isn’t it… I can still remember things we did when I was just a little boy and he was in his prime and yet there’s things I can’t remember about yesterday. Then there’s that strange encounter we have just every now and again… maybe it’s Dad’s way of letting me know it’s all ok.. Monday night this week I had my first dream about him… he was back to the Dad I remember from years ago… strong and walking tall… not the Dad the last year of his life… frail and hardly able to get around.
How will my end come??? I don’t know… a part of me would like for it to be like Dad… just lay down to take a nap and then there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to be alone yet I don’t want to see my girls and grandkids hurting over the fact that my time is over. I’m glad this is something I don’t have to decide.
This is for you Dad… Love ya… One Sweet Day
