My dad passed away.
I know you probably came here for the quilting stuff, and I do have a TON of stuff to share, but I could not let this event slip by unmarked.
My dad and I had a rocky history. My two earliest memories of him are emblematic of our entire relationship.
First is him holding my tiny hand while our family walked into the Baskin Robins 31 Flavors ice cream shop. We both wanted chocolate and that made me feel special.
Second is being in the front passenger seat of the car while my dad climbed onto the hood, screaming and pounding his fists on the windshield of the car while my mom raced backwards out of the driveway. And that made me feel awful.
No wonder I have trouble being consistent. No wonder I confuse food and comfort. No wonder I always fear I will not be good enough. No wonder I am soaring high one day and in the depths of despair the next.
My parents divorced when I was in 3rd grade. Even though he moved just down the street to be with my soon-to-be stepmom, I saw him mostly only on birthdays and holidays. And as an adult, it was the same. I tried to keep connected with Christmas and birthdays but visits were difficult, for so many reasons.
On August 9th, I found out he had lung cancer. I was driving when I got the text and had to pull over. After I stopped gasping for air and could see clearly, I drove straight to his house. Over the next few weeks, I was able to visit him. Once, we chatted on the front porch for over an hour – such a wonderful gift from the Lord to me.
Then on September 12th, he was gone.
All I ever wanted, Dad, was to be that special girl you held hands with on the way into Baskin Robbins. I never wanted to be a burden, a snitch or make you feel guilty. I just wanted to love you and to be loved.
I will miss your ribald humor, your raucous laughter, your rag-time piano-playing. I will miss all that you were. And I will miss all that never was.
All my love,
P.S. Thanks for reading this. I know many of you have and are suffering so much worse and you have my thoughts and prayers. Thanks to all of you for the kind words of support and sympathy. It means the world.