January 15
January 15
I meant to leave more stories here, but was just... grieving my way. I'll try to put some on here this year, because it will also help me as the memories continue to fade.
But for now, a letter to my dad:
2023 was a big year. I turned 40, my kids turned 16 and 21, and a few other major life things that I learned a lot from. But before any of those milestones, a year ago today, you left us. Honestly, I thought I’d be pretty prepared for it, as it’s no secret that your health had been declining for years…
I was not. I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to the I love yous, I wasn’t prepared to clean out your stuff without you, I wasn’t prepared to not be able to lecture and be frustrated with you, which surprised me. And I really, really wasn’t prepared to finally understand you now that I can’t do anything about it, to remember what an amazing man you used to be, and especially not to see that to many people and in many ways, you were still that man right up until you passed.
After that day, so many instances would come up where I’d find I had questions about your life, and I would think, “Oh, I’ll just ask Dad lat- oh,” as the reality that you were gone would wash over me all over again. I wish I could ask you, though the questions are long gone now. I wish I could take you to a convention like the ones I go to, but with athletes, because they have a lot of those now. We’d have fun getting autographs together again, and this time I’d understand better what it meant to you. What it would mean to both of us.
I did a lot of things last year that I haven’t done before, and given everything that happened, thought a lot about my life and what I want it to be. You have been a key source of both what I do and don’t want it to become, which you know because we used to talk about it. I’ve always looked and acted a lot like you, after all. But largely you are an inspiration that keeps me going the right direction. You stay with me constantly, always an active part of me.
One year, both so incredibly long and also just a few blinks of an eye. Many more to come. I miss seeing your face and hearing your voice, but I also feel you with me, always. Just please continue to stay with me, Dad. I’m gonna need your spirit more than ever as I embark on the next chapters of my life. Thank you for being you, and know that I know that I can do anything, because I’m your daughter. I love you.
But for now, a letter to my dad:
2023 was a big year. I turned 40, my kids turned 16 and 21, and a few other major life things that I learned a lot from. But before any of those milestones, a year ago today, you left us. Honestly, I thought I’d be pretty prepared for it, as it’s no secret that your health had been declining for years…
I was not. I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to the I love yous, I wasn’t prepared to clean out your stuff without you, I wasn’t prepared to not be able to lecture and be frustrated with you, which surprised me. And I really, really wasn’t prepared to finally understand you now that I can’t do anything about it, to remember what an amazing man you used to be, and especially not to see that to many people and in many ways, you were still that man right up until you passed.
After that day, so many instances would come up where I’d find I had questions about your life, and I would think, “Oh, I’ll just ask Dad lat- oh,” as the reality that you were gone would wash over me all over again. I wish I could ask you, though the questions are long gone now. I wish I could take you to a convention like the ones I go to, but with athletes, because they have a lot of those now. We’d have fun getting autographs together again, and this time I’d understand better what it meant to you. What it would mean to both of us.
I did a lot of things last year that I haven’t done before, and given everything that happened, thought a lot about my life and what I want it to be. You have been a key source of both what I do and don’t want it to become, which you know because we used to talk about it. I’ve always looked and acted a lot like you, after all. But largely you are an inspiration that keeps me going the right direction. You stay with me constantly, always an active part of me.
One year, both so incredibly long and also just a few blinks of an eye. Many more to come. I miss seeing your face and hearing your voice, but I also feel you with me, always. Just please continue to stay with me, Dad. I’m gonna need your spirit more than ever as I embark on the next chapters of my life. Thank you for being you, and know that I know that I can do anything, because I’m your daughter. I love you.