Friday, January 11, 2013

Forever 52

 Tomorrow Daddy would have been 55 years old. He took his trip up to heaven just over two years ago at age 52.
 My memories of celebrating his birthday weigh heavy on me right now. It started a few weeks before Christmas,near his day of death, and are hitting me hard over the past few days.
 My Daddy was a tall man, he was a loud man, a quick tempered man, a kind man, a great singer man, a generous man, he was crazy in a fun way man, he was a good Daddy man.
 When his time ended with me, so did his age. It stopped forever and for me to imagine that he would be 55, is difficult simply because he never will be.
Time is moving on, but for him it stopped suddenly, and and I still have trouble understanding why. Fifty two is not a long life, but in fifty two years he filled it up. He worked hard, struggled at times, made money, lost money, loved, lost and died in a state of grace.
At times he comes to visit me in my dreams. I'm at various ages in those dreams. Sometimes I'm still a child with her Daddy on a pedestal. Sometimes he helps me do things. Sometimes he's singing in church, sometimes we just talk. It makes me not miss him so bad when I'm dreaming, but then I wake up and it hits me all over again.
There are so many events he will miss seeing. There are so many events he shared. There are so many events where I almost feel him there. There are so many events when I just feel the hollow loss.
He will always be fifty two in my mind. I see my Mom get older. I see my in-laws get older. They were all around the same age. I see the progression of their lives and wonder what else I'd have shared with him. Would we run hot and cold? Would we laugh when I called him about a quip his grandsons made? Would he be proud of me? Would I still get mad at him for playing favorites {I was not his favorite} Would he have finally realized that no matter what happened I'd always be a "Daddy's girl"? Would he take my boys fishing? Would he still lead singing at church?
I try not to what if those things too much. The grief gets unbearable if I dwell on the what ifs and wonders. I had twenty nine years with my Daddy. He had fifty two years to make his mark in this world. Make his mark indeed. He truly lived life to his fullest. I can still hear him laugh and sing sometimes. Sometimes I don't cry at those memories. Sometimes I curl up in a ball.
I accepted that he's gone. I accepted that he's with the Lord. I accepted fifty two years was all he had.