My father passed away very quietly a year ago today. My mother, cousin, son, and I were all there. It's taken the better part of a year for me to internalize that he is gone. His physical decent was so slow, that at times it was hard to realize all that he had lost. First a cane, then a walker, then a wheelchair, and finally, requiring another person to put him in and take him out of the wheelchair. I saw him Tuesday of the week he died, sitting in the cafeteria. He offered my dog, Melly, a bite of his lunch. Forever ornery. He had been moved to the assisted side of the cafeteria a few months earlier. That was hard to grasp. Looking back on everything now, it seems so obvious that he was fading away before my eyes, but that Tuesday to me, was just like any other visit I had made over the last year. I had a care plan meeting, and brought Melly to visit with Dad, and all the other residents. She had become quite a favorite for a lot of them. I wonder now, if they miss seeing her. I suspect they do. Dad was in a care facility, with his 2 older brothers, one next door to him, and one across the hall. They are all gone now, actually within about 6 weeks of each other. At first, they got together and played dominoes. But Dad became less able to do even that as time went on, and eventually, they gave up. One visit earlier, on a Sunday, people were having a service down the hall, and were playing a song that was one of my Dad's favorites. I sang along, and Dad grinned his normal grin. It was one of the songs my cousin sang at his funeral. It seemed obvious to choose it.
I believe I will miss him every day of my life from now on. Some days are really difficult, but others, I am glad for him that he is not suffering, and feeling frustrated and useless. Most of the time though, I am sad that he isn't part of everything that has happened since Feb. 11, 2010. I can imagine him watching his Granddaughter caring for her own baby. He would be so proud of her and her little girl, and his eyes would sparkle at her middle name.
I've heard other people talk about how hard it is to "get over" the loss of a parent. I for one, will not. I don't intend to get over it. Get through it, I did already. Move on from it, I'm still doing all the time. I don't expect to get over it. I expect to miss him, just as I have been, forever.
It takes a special man to be called Daddy, and I was fortunate to have a Daddy in my life.
