Father’s Day

And I find this one much less than happy. It is my first Father’s Day without my father.

This post was very difficult to write. I stopped and started, beginning last night, three times. It’s 11 am on Sunday at this point, and I’m starting again. Half the day is almost gone.

My father passed away, at the age of 88, on February 11th of this year. He barely missed his 89th birthday on April 13th. My brothers and I were able to provide a military funeral for him; he served in the United States Army Air Corps during WWII as a pilot; he later served active duty during Vietnam.

On Sunday, March 22nd, I published this post about a letter sent to my father from his, in 1941. My eyes clouded up, as they are now.

It’s so true: you never really know and appreciate what you have until it’s gone. So many things left unsaid and unknown between me and my father. And of course, now, so terribly late. I still cannot quite express my true feelings and emotions about the loss of my father. I started a post two months ago in an attempt to encapsulate what I’ve learned after my father’s passing. I can’t seem to finish it; it sits in a “draft” stage.

We’ve sold my father’s house; it now belongs to other people. When it’s said that you can’t go back, it’s true: you literally cannot go back.

God bless you Dad; I miss you so terribly much. More today than when you passed. Though you never once said you loved me, I knew you did. And I should have said it so much more to you.

This is a tough day, folks. Later, my wife and I will be going to my brother’s home for a barbeque. There will be one chair conspicuously absent. A chair we cannot fill.

I must keep telling myself, as I wrote on the day he passed, and said the day of his funeral: “I’ll bet my Dad’s flying high above the earth right now, in an open cockpit Consolidated Vultee BT-13, canopy slided back, where the skies are blue, the weather fair, and he’s young, strong and free. So free.”

That first night of the 11th, I had a dream. I awakened with it in my head. Carole King was singing “So Far Away.” I remembered that most distinctly.

Last night I had a dream. Many dreams. I seldom remember any of my dreams but I remembered this: my father placed his hand upon my head.

I miss you and love you, Dad. Happy Father’s day.

BZ
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

14 thoughts on “Father’s Day

  1. So true, BZ, you can’t go back.

    I guess I was lucky, my father told me all my life how much he loved me, I am the youngest and told him everytime I saw him. I knew this day would come, his death and I didn’t want any regrets.

    He taught me to hunt, flyfish and to enjoy everyday. “If it’s not fun, don’t do it”, he would always say.

    Some lessons I learned my father
    are:
    -Never work for everyone but yourself.
    -Buy the best and cry once.
    – Remember son, it’s the workers who are the real Americans.
    -If you can’t fuck it, kill it.
    -Son, when you’re in a Board Meeting, remember the guy in the back wearing the cowboy hat and jeans owns the company.
    -Don’t ever look down at someone and don’t ever let anyone look down at you.
    -Don’t allow any negativity in your life.
    – Get rid of anyone that doesn’t beleive in you and that includes family members.
    -Do what you love and love what you do and you’ll never go wrong, the money will come I guarantee it.

    I could go on and on, I think about him everyday when making my decisions. He affected so many people and was always positive and loved life more then anyone I ever knew.

    I miss him so.

  2. BZ, That was an incredible tribute. Very moving. I was misty eyed.

    Your dad was a heck of a man. You have honored him more than you will ever know because after reading your posts about him who wouldn’t have anything but the utmost respect for him.
    Thanks again for another great post.

  3. BZ,
    I with you. My dad’s been gone one year as of June 17th. This is a rough day, but a good one. I talked to my family at church today and we all were missing him, but happy he is with God.

    I like to think he’s talking to my grandfather, a WWI veteran and my grandmother who he missed a lot and my uncle, his brother, who was an AAF veteran of WWII. My dad was a Korean War vet and I’m sure they’re telling each other war stories and laughing together.

    My mom misses him but she knows they’ll be together someday and that makes her smile. Me too. Happy Father’s Day.

  4. I hope you write a novel, BZ. You touch your readers in very special ways.

    I like to think your Dad DID have his hand on your head last night…I think he’s thanking you for loving him so much.

    z

  5. BZ,
    I’ve been where you are. I lost my dad in 1998. He and I last celebrated Father’s Day in 1997, but Dad was too ill to enjoy it much, though he put up a good front.

    So many things left unsaid and unknown between me and my father. And of course, now, so terribly late.

    Easy for me to say, but don’t beat yourself up over that. In fact, having that emotion indicates to me that you were indeed a good son while your father was living.

    I miss my father every day. He and I became so close after Mom died unexpectedly in 1987.

    When my dad’s birthday, June 19th, coincides with Father’s Day, I still have a very blue day — even after all these years.

  6. AOW, and try as you may, you can never really remove the child in us when it comes to our parents. When normally I would be looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’m hoping to have more coping mechanisms under my belt before those holidays this year.

    BZ

  7. You’re lucky. You and your dad got to spend the last few years together as friends. My dad has been gone enough years that I’ve lost track. But he died just before we could actually become “friends”. Just remember the good times, that’s all I can say.

  8. Wow. BZ, I’ve never even been to Fornicalia but I almost feel like I know you. You have a gift for writing. My prayers are with you as well during this hard time.

Comments are closed.