My father died almost ten years ago, and he took up so much space in my life and all the lives around him, we all just felt like we had a gaping hole next to us where he was supposed to be. Even after ten years, I have an ache when I think of him, wishing I could see his infectious smile or hear his booming laugh just one more time.
After my dad died, mom had two weird encounters that we had to attribute to his sliding a message back through from the other side. First was for about 30 days right after he died, the electric meter stopped. He always complained loudly about the theives at the electric company, especially during the winter (and this was in January), and then just as suddenly as it stopped, the electric meter started whirring ’round again. The other incident was odder. About two weeks after his death, my mom was sitting in the living room one night and looked up at the ceiling, and there was this great big brown watermark on it from leaking. She made a mental note to pick up some patching materials and find that leak on the roof. She fixed the leak, and that next night she looked back up at the ceiling, and that great big brown water mark was completely gone. It was never there.
Knowing my Dad, if he were given a couple of things he could do to let us know he was all right on the other side life’s great divide, these are the two things he would pick, both of them directed at looking out for my mom, his bride, the woman he loved with a passion for 40+ years and apparently beyond.
I had a million other reasons to love him, but adoring my mother was the thing that made him 100 feet tall in my eyes.
Happy Father’s Day, daddy, wherever you are.
Pretty good words. Really. I am glad you wrote all this!
Oh, Patty, your dad sounds like a wonderful man.
I am very much my father’s daughter, and even though I don’t get to see my dad as much as I would like to, I do not know what I would do without him.
Hugs and love!
A beautiful, moving, and loving tribute. Your love for your father is so tangible.
P — what a beautiful tribute to your dad. There was an interesting/sad essay in the NY Times today by a woman who had a chilly relationship with her chilly father, and how she felt like it had impacted her whole life’s relationship with men, and how she envied women who had dads they knew loved them, and who then felt comfortable with men.
We spent today with my father, who turns 84 tomorrow, so for my whole life we have had our birthday party together on the same Sunday, which is generally also Father’s Day. After he goes I doubt I will ever feel the same about my birthday again. I was (can you guess?) a total Daddy’s Girl. He always acted like I hung the moon, even/mostly when I didn’t deserve it. I think he’s a big part of why I wound up with the Big Cheese — the first man I dated who treated me with that kind of you’re-the-bomb affection.
Anyway, happy Father’s Day. Thanks for the post.@};-
Patty, sorry about your loss, I lost my father 4 years ago. I know what you mean by the gaping hole, you talked about.
Close your eyes, reach out and feel like you are hugging him. I do that every morning.
To Fathers everywhere, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY
Oh, Patty, I am so sorry for your loss. What a wonderful tribute. (((hugs)))
My father was brilliant, colorful, totally in love and devoted to my mother and his family.
He was most likely bipolar (In those days there were no real diagnoses regarding the finer points of mental illness)
Our relationship was complicated and mostly unbearable.
For all those women/girl children of fathers who impacted their lives in a rich but poignant way, I send my greetings. gail