(My dad and my grandfather.)
We got up this morning and lit a candle on this, the first anniversary of my dad’s transition. That it’s been a year seems impossible, yet the calendar tells me it has.
There are days in which I relive the last 24 hours of his life. Like a film, each frame passing in front of my eyes, I see it all. Yesterday I was acutely aware that on that day a year ago, I was throwing clothes into my suitcase and flying down to Tampa, where my nephew picked me up at the airport and took me directly to the hospital. Today, I will be thinking about that day in ICU, the moment when we had a sliver of hope that he might be doing a bit better, and then the moment when it became clear that the end was coming. So much in one day.
That my sister was by my side, that we shared Dad’s last moments on Earth, that we told him we loved him and thanked him for everything, that, when we knew what was coming, we told him – together – that it was okay to leave us, that we would be okay, and that mom needed him, that it was our turn to take care of him the same way he took care of us when we were dependent on him, holding his hands, soothing his brow, that it all plays back as vividly today as it did then – I am so grateful for all of it. Being with him as he made his transition was the most profound experience of my life.
My father was a complicated and often troubled man. He was an alcoholic who became sober later in life. He had his demons. He tested my patience and I often failed that test. Both my sister and brother and I had to work hard to come to terms with the person Dad was when we were growing up and how it impacted us.
But, this is the most important thing to remember about my dad: he loved us fiercely and absolutely. He was always there for us. He was devoted to his children and to his wife. He was a good man, compassionate and kind, generous and giving.
He was the kind of man who helped out those in need. I remember neighbors coming to him for help in rather dire and sometimes dangerous circumstances. He never backed off. He took over, made decisions, and protected them. One of my neighbors wrote to me about one of those instances when Dad passed away. He is remembered, my dad.
He was a Scoutmaster who is still remembered by the guys in his scout troupe so many, many years later. He loved the outdoors. Camping and fishing in the woods of Northern Michigan was the perfect vacation for him and we did a lot of that when I was a kid. He was athletic. He was an excellent golfer; in fact, was invited to become a Pro Golfer, but at that time it didn’t pay very well and he had a family to raise.
He came to every play and musical in which I performed in junior high school, high school, summer theater, college – all of it. He always gave me a rose on opening night, with a card inscribed: “To a star always in my heart.”
He was proud of his children. He thought we were beautiful. Even in our adult years, he was there for us. He was there, along with my mother, as my brother battled the Lymphoma that eventually took his life. He was there for me as I made the decision to go back to school and get my Master’s Degree. He was there for Don and I when times got tough. He was there for Meredith and her husband and children. And for his beloved pets over the years, especially the two cats who kept him company in those years without my mother by his side.
He loved my mom from the day he met her that first time for a soda at the local drug store (just home from the war) after having written to her when she was given his name and address as part of a neighborhood program to support our boys in uniform. He told her that day he was going to marry her. And they were married six months later. Over sixty years later, when she was in the nursing home and no longer by his side in the home they shared, he visited her every day, often several times a day.
These are the things I choose to remember now. In those final hours in the hospital, everything else fell away. The anger, the tears, the complicated and, at times, tempestuous relationship I had with him, that Meredith had with him – none of it mattered. In those hours, only love mattered. The love my father had for us, the love we had, have, for him.
What a gift that was. A gift from God. Cleansing, healing, being born anew in the only thing that matters: Love.
I wish I could go back in time and react differently, more compassionately, to the dad I knew as a teenager and young adult. If I could do it over again, I’d try my best to do it better. But, truthfully, I had to grow and learn, just as my dad had to. We do the best we can and then try to do better the next time. I’m convinced that we come together in this life to help each other grow. To face the world together and learn together. The conflicts, the fears, the anger, and impatience are there to, in the end, show us that their opposite – love – is the only thing that is real.
My dad knew he was loved. We grew up in a family that freely and often said “I love you.”
I miss you every day, Dad. Thank you for being my father. I love you.
Happy Saturday,
Lovely post Claudia.
Thank you, Carolyn Marie.
Claudia, what a beautiful tribute to your father. Relationships can be so complicated, but you’re right; love is the only thing that matters, and the only thing that lasts. Sending wishes that the memories of your father comfort you on this bittersweet day.
Thank you, Roneta.
This is beautiful and so insightful, Claudia.
It is a lovely tribute to your father, as well as what it means to be human.
In the end…love really is what we’re here for.
Wishing you love and peace today…xoxo
Thank you, Linda.
Simply beautiful!
Thank you, Cathy.
Very beautiful Claudia.
Thank you, Debbie.
This is a beautiful tribute to your Dad. My hope is that you have a peaceful day of remembrance. ;)
Thank you, Donnamae.
Thank you Claudia for writing about your dear Dad today.
Joy
Thank you, Joy.
Thank you sharing your private thoughts with us, Claudia. From the photo, I can see how you resemble your Dad. Did you know your grandparents?
Not my dad’s parents. He was the youngest of 6 children and they died before I was born. I wish I had known them. Thank you, Wendy.
(Meredith has my dad’s chin, for sure!)
Claudia, I know this is a hard day but your tribute to your Dad is wonderful. Losing my Dad 10 years ago and then my brother in Dec. I know so much how you feel. Even though there were some issues between us, in the end the love was all that counted. I’m thinking of you and Meredith today with much love.
Thank you, Linda.
Such a touching tribute. The love, above all, does shine through.
Thank you, Shanna.
So eloquent, Claudia. I’m sure it helped you to write this out, put words to emotion. Very meaningful, too, for anyone else to read. You speak from the perspective now of a woman who’s matured and better able to come to terms with events of the past. I wish you healing peace today.
Thank you, Vicki.
Very lovingly written memories!
Thank you, Barbara.
Thank for taking the time to write this tribute to your father, Claudia.
I suppose that we could all say that if we had a chance to do it all over again, that we would react differently Now than how we did Then. Hind sight is always 20/20 isn’t it?
I suppose that what we must take from our memories of a loved-ones who has passed is- did they make a positive difference in my life or in the life of someone else? Certainly they had their character flaws and negative clashes with you or others that is human nature, yet how were they able to demonstrate the love of GOD towards their fellow man, whilst they were traveling down life’s highway?
From reading your loving tribute, your dad left behind a Great Legacy of “loving your neighbor as yourself” and that, to me, is priceless!
It is indeed, Elizabeth. He was a very good man. Thank you.
This post brought tears to my eyes. Such a loving and thoughtful tribute to your Dad. It made me think of my Dad. He’s been gone since 2000. Seems like just yesterday I spent his last day with him. He was an alcoholic as well, but he never got sober, and so our relationship was always difficult. I knew he always loved me and he knew I loved him too, and that was enough to get us through the hard times most days. Sometimes we only barely made it through though, because loving and dealing with an addict is beyond difficult. It’s really the hardest thing ever….
I’ll be thinking of you today, Claudia. Wishing you a peaceful day, thinking of the good memories of your Father.
It’s very hard dealing with an addict, and even when they become sober, the personality traits and needs of an addict remain. So it’s ongoing, this struggle. But knowing you were loved and that you loved him is the most important thing. Thank you, Lily.
You said it all perfectly, you always do. Love you sister.
Love you right back, sister. xo
Thank you so much Claudia for this beautiful tribute to your father. I know the blessing of being with a loved one making their transition. I loved on my grandmother as she left & thanked her for being my safe place when I was growing up and sat on the bed by my step dad holding his hand and thanking him for always being there for me. I am so glad I was with them both. Your lovely words about your father have touched my heart today.
Thank you so much, Janie.
Beautiful tribute to your father! I’ve felt all those feelings you conveyed so well. My father was an alcoholic too. I was the family rebel and scapegoat. We butted heads on everything! But just as with your father, I knew I was loved deeply and my father knew how much I loved him. I’m so glad you were with your father when he passed away and that he could go surrounded by peace and love. Peace to you today.
Thank you, Laura.
A wonderful post. I’m sure your dad loved it too. He certainly gave a lot, and meant a lot, to many people throughout his life. And in the end, that’s just about the finest tribute anyone could earn, isn’t it? Sending along a warm virtual squeeze of support on this gray, chilly, dreary day. And may the Force be with you… 💔
Thank you, Janet.
Today marks seven months since my mother passed away. Reading the beautiful tribute you wrote for your father has helped me to shift my focus from the imperfections in our relationship and to focus on the love we had for each other. Blessings to you!
Thinking of you, Debbie. It’s can be difficult, but we have to find the love. xo
May I be thought of by my children as you think of your father. I have had a very rocky relationship with my father over the years. As a teen, we butted heads frequently. He is now in a nursing home and I visit him twice a week for several hours at a time. I am so much like him! Even in his anxiety-ridden, type A moments, I can understand where he is coming from. It’s a little scary! Anyway, we have a very nice relationship now in his weakest moments. I am trying to apply what I am learning with my relationship with him to my relationships with MY adult children. Your story of the relationship with your father helps me with mine. Thank you for sharing your struggles.
You are welcome, Laura. Thank you.
Wishing you peace, love, and joy, as you sift through your memories….Hugs
Thank you, Nancy.
Gordon was a wonderful and generous father-in-law. I was so honored to be in his family. He was very funny, and ever since that time they visited us in San Diego years ago and we played dominoes, Claudia & I and Gordon & Shirley, I had a new nickname. Named after a game he taught his. The name I wore proudly. Who wouldn’t with a nickname like that?? I miss you Gordon. And I love you.
With Gratitude,
“Chicken Foot”
The best nickname! I can still hear him saying it. He loved you very much, dear husband. xoxoxo
A girl always needs her dad doesn’t she? No matter how old we get they were the first man in our lives to make an impact. You have some wonderful memories to cherish.
My dad abandoned my brother, mom, and I when I was still very young. He flitted (isn’t that a great word?) in and out of my life.
In 2005 he finally came into my life to stay. He lived in Illinois. I in Minnesota. We talked several times a week and he was a great letter writer.
We had 3 years. He died just before Christmas 2008. He had lung cancer. He ordered me not to go to him. I honored that. He was by then in Hospice care in a nursing home. On his final day the nurse called me to tell me it wouldn’t be long. She is an angel waiting for her wings. She stayed in his room with the phone. I talked to him til he breathed his last. I don’t know how much at that point he understood of what I said, but I know he felt my love.
I miss him terribly. I understand your loss.
I’m sorry you ‘lost’ your dad at a young age, but oh so happy that you found each other again, Trudy. What a beautiful story. Love to you.
Claudia, today’s post is such a lovely tribute to your Dad. Thank you for sharing him and your family with us.
I too have lost both parents and I think of them every day and miss them so much. Regret happens I guess when one has a sometimes turbulent past with a loved one. But you are so right that the better times and goodness in people is what in the end we hold on tight to and cherish.
I recognize my own feelings in your words- you said it all so well. Thank you
Thank you, Dianne.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful post on your Dad.
Thank you, Valerie.
Beautiful tribute, Claudia. My father died suddenly when I was 18. I often think how sad it is that my father never got to know his children as adults. All of his children were still too young to appreciate him when he passed, but I do know he was a very good man. I try to live every day so that he would have been proud of me. I’m glad that your father lived long enough to see what fine people he reared. I know he was proud of you.
I am absolutely sure he is proud of you, Dottie. Thank you.
And in the end, only love mattered. Yes, yes, yes.
Thank you, Tina.
Hoping your love for him and the love he had for you and your sister and brother brings comfort and peace…….Dianne
Thank you, Dianne.
What a lovely and honest tribute to your dad. Your piece was beautiful and very thought-provoking, Claudia. My own parents are in Tampa and, due to an unfortunately difficult situation here at home, I am unable to visit them. I will never forgive myself for missing out on this time of their lives (they just turned 80).
Take comfort in the the truth that they know you love them, Elle. I was unable to visit my mom when she was in the nursing home, as well. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with that, even though I had no choice. They understand, as my mom understood. xo
So hard to believe that it’s already been a whole year. That’s such a wonderful photo of your dad and grandfather. I wish I could have a do over with my in-laws now that they are both gone. Even though I believe they knew who I really was, I allowed some not so honest family members to lead me astray which resulted in angry encounters and unnecessary negativity. Thankfully, we no longer are forced to spend time with those trouble makers. Sending hugs and blessings, Tammy
Sending them back to you, too. Thanks, Tammy.
What a beautiful tribute to your father Claudia. My father died unexpectedly and suddenly at home when neither my sister or myself were there and although I am always grateful to have been with him the evening before he died, I so wish I had been there for him when he passed over. It happened the same way with my dear Mum and even though they were in their 80’s you still can’t believe it’s happened. But like you I am so grateful to know how loved I was by both of them and for them to know how much I loved them
Yes, I wasn’t able to be with my mother when she died, so being with my dad was a blessing. Thanks, Valerie.
Thank you for the lovely post about your father. It was a gift to him and so obviously to many others, including myself. Your words are filled with understanding and love, and though sometimes poignant, give pause and thought. Again, thank you.
Thank you Catherine.
Claudia,
You gave your dad an incredible gift, your presence and love as he was dying and then again in this lovely tribute. Blessings on you.
Thank you, Judy.
What a beautiful post and tribute to your Dad and all the love between you…..thank you for sharing
Thank you, Donna.
What a beautiful post about your dad. You are a wonderful writer.
Oh, thank you, Melanie.