By the time this post reaches the internet, it will be the week of my Dad’s birthday. He’d have been 65. He died when he was only 50, and I was only 26. My Dad never saw me get married, or met my children, or did so many things that I wish he’d been around to do.
I wanted to focus on missing my Dad in this post. As much as I missed him when I was young and single, I miss him even more now that I am married and with children. My son and daughter would have loved him. And there is no doubt in my mind that he would have adored them. They only know of him from my stories and the picture of him when he was in his 20s in the Air Force hanging in our upstairs hallway.
He was the type of man who seemed to have infinite patience with his children, or at least that’s how I remember things. I can recall sitting on our picnic table on the back porch, looking up at the sky, and asking him any and all questions about life, the universe and everything that came to my seven year old brain. He seemed to have an answer for each question and was always willing to answer just one more.
While my father had his own personal issues, he always had time for his children. When he spent time with us, we were his focus and the most important thing in his world. I hope that my own children feel half as important to me as I always felt I was to my Dad.
On this anniversary of his birth, I just wanted to say…
I miss you Dad. You’d have been a great Grandpa.
by Rocket Science Mom
Photo graciously provided by Rickydavid, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
RSM, I have to say I loved this essay. Stu posted this great series of sharing he did with our Dad (http://stunewsandphotos.blogspot.com/) and this connected me to that. Happy Birthday, RSM’s Dad.
– Dave
My dad died when I was 22. He missed the same stuff your dad missed. And I do miss him more now than I did when I was single. I know how much he would have loved, and delighted in, my boys, and what a wonderful grandpa he would have been to them. I am sorry they didn’t get to know him. But I am grateful for his gifts, because they make me a better mother.
I feel this, RSM. There are different ways to miss a dad.
I’m a spiritual person, so I believe he is imbued in you and that he did see you get married and have kids. I get the missing part and I don’t want to invalidate your sadness, but as your friend, I want to point out that maybe he’s there with you, accompanying you on your voyage, walking alongside his grandkids. *hug*
I know where you are. My dad lived long enough to see me married, but he never held his grandchildren, never did all of the things that we had all promised ourselves we would do to together after he retired.
Because he isn’t here with us, I have made sure that my daughter (and to the extent I can, my two nephews) know all about their Grandpa. I tell the stories he told me. I point out places he used to work, the house he grew up in, where his office was. I try to make sure that his grandchildren feel like they know him… even if he isn’t here.
Daddy died nearly 20 years ago. There isn’t a day I don’t miss him. But my daughter still knows him.
You are all such wonderful people. Every single one of you. I am sorry to hear that there are other “Grandpas who might have been” among us. I am grateful that I have joined such a wonderfully loving community.
I am also spiritual and I believe, for every one of us daughters and sons who lost a Dad too early, is a Dad up in heaven watching and enjoying our every day; our every accomplishment, with love and pride.
Thank you all. Your warm comments meant more than you can know.