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.