... but today is only for him.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

There is a lot going on in my neck of the woods, a lot I would like to blog about and eventually will, but not today... You see, I have quit my job and am looking for a new one. I am planning a trip to Seattle in a few days. I had a lovely friend in town last week and we had the most fun, silly adventures together (many, many photos to come). I also had my one year anniversary with Las Vegas and that has given me a lot to think about... and a lot to celebrate. I'm still cheese-less and rather put off by the whole concept of diet and exercise at the moment, but I'm keeping at it, albeit angrily. Oh, and last but not least, a very overdue post dedicated to the amazing experience that was Bloggers in Sin City is coming.

... but again, not today.

Today is only for him.



Nine years ago today, we lost him... My father left our lives, and this world, on June 3rd, 2001. And none of us have been the same since. We are better and we are worse, we are more and less joyful, we cry more and we laugh harder, but we are not the same.

There are so many words I could write down here, but they are mine and I know that wherever my dad is, he knows them. He knows my heart. What I will say here is that I miss him with all of my being. And the missing him, while more quiet than it used to be, is always present.

Do you remember the scene in Grey's Anatomy (and, yes, it pains me to quote this show in a post dedicated to my father) when George lost his father? He turned to Christina and said, "I don't know how to exist in a world where my dad doesn't."

Truth be told, I still don't know how to exist in that world either..., but I'm figuring it out.

So, today, I will say that while I'm sad, I'm also aware of how unbelievably lucky I was to have a father who loved me so very, very much for 23 years. And Dad, wherever you are, I want to thank you for being the most generous, fun, good, loyal man I have ever known. I will miss you all the days of my life.

I loved you the day you left us, I love you today and I will love you forever. And when I someday see you again, I will love you still and finally, on that day, perhaps up in the sky, this incredible ache I have felt since you left will finally cease and we will be together. I hope on that day you will make me your famous chocolate milkshake.

11 comments:

  1. I love you, sweet friend. 9 years ago still feels like yesterday in my heart of hearts, so I can only imagine how it feels in yours...

    Buzz would love this damn blog, (not just this post, all of it) just about as much as he despised your first boyfriend, I reckon.

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  2. Oh buggie. My heart breaks for you, and this is reminding me of our bathroom talks and how much about this day you shared with me, and I wish I was with you today to hug you and listen to you and do whatever you wanted to do. I love you, and I've said it so many times because I truly believe it-your father must be SO amazingly proud of you and the wonderful person you are.

    Phone tag all day tomm, I don't care how long it takes. Well, I'll drop everything to answer your call, including telling my trainer to suck it.

    LOVE THE BUG.

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  3. My heart is breaking right now, this is a beautiful post Kathleen. Manyyyy kisses coming your way from MEEEEEE. Love you my lovely Kathleen.

    xoxoxoxo

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  4. You are such an awesome person. I'm so sorry he didn't get to see you grow the past nine years.

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  5. My heart -and my prayers- are with you today. XOXO

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  6. So sorry for your loss sweets. Big hugs. I have a sneaking suspicion your dad sees how far you've come in those 9 years and is somewhere feeling very, very proud of his girl.

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  7. This is such a beautiful tribute to your father. I bet he is smiling down on you, right now, so proud of you and happy to call you his daughter. You have strength and conviction, and I have no doubt his passing has helped you become who you are today. Hugs and Hearts!

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  8. Beautiful girl, really beautiful.

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  9. Beautifully written. We are gifted to have such parents. They leave a hole that simply cannot be filled. We go on, as you said. We don't even know how, but we do. This is the first time in 15 years that my mother's death anniversary pasted without me remembering (and thus, stand sticken, so remembering her...)... as a poet once said. Wasn't it also someone in Grey's Anatomy that said, we are now in The Club? They do go on in us. I can say that. So, some of the beauty you reflect in your everyday self, is a reflection of his soul enduring within yours.

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  10. Your words make my heart ache. For you. For everyone who has lost a loved one. I lost my own Dad at 22. I take comfort in that fact that when he passed, he did so fully knowing how much he was loved. Not all young adults have great relationships with their parents. Often, the difficult teenage years have just passed. It sounds like you loved him immensely and he knew it. It's small comfort, I know, but that is an amazing thing to have shared.

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  11. My hearts goes out to you. I can only imagine how hard this day must be for you....don't know why you're coming to Seattle, but it's nothing but rain right now!

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