Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. ~Gloria Naylor, American novelist
I lost my dad eight and one-half years ago to cancer, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.
Miss his advice
Daddy knew what to do with things in the yard. How and when to spray the roses. Ways to recognize bugs or birds. When to prune and how much.
Daddy understood business. How to deal with unexpected problems or tight cashflow. When to let a client go. How to soothe ruffled feathers and keep clients happy.
Miss his humor
Daddy loved a good joke and remembered them way better than many people. Not everybody wakes up “chirpy,” but those who do are a joy to be around. Daddy never needed that first cup of coffee before being civil or entertaining.
Daddy was able to look on the bright side of most things. Despite his battle with cancer, he never complained. He must have been in a world of pain, but he always pointed out, “There’s pain enough to go around for all of us.”
Miss his encouragement
Daddy recognized the best in me and was quick to call me out if I failed to live up to potential. We had some doozies of arguments when I thought he was too interfering or he thought I was too rebelious. And neither of us was much of an apologiser. Still, I knew he had my back, and he knew I’d eventually cave — if for no other reason than out of respect.
Like Christmas, birthdays, and Father’s Day. Miss picking out special cards and writing a heart-felt message on them. Miss pumping him for details about the “good ole days” when he was a boy (even though I’d heard the stories before!) Miss long summer nights playing tennis as a family. Miss snowed-in winter weekends learning something new … like chess.
It’s easy to say none of us gets out of here alive, or that time heals all wounds. But does one ever “get over” the death of a parent?
P.S. Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there! And to those whose dads are still living, give them an extra hug for the rest of us today!