I’m just posting in order to vocalize what today means to me.
Four years ago today my father passed away from breast cancer z”l. It doesn’t feel so long. It feels like it was just a year or two ago–or perhaps it was a dream. But honestly, when I think of how much my family and my life has changed since then, it’s hard to imagine it was only 4 years ago.
Let’s just outline some of the changes:
Brother engaged, married, moved to CA, had daughter
Sister graduated college, became ASL interpreter, moved to NC and is in grad school
Mother changed jobs, started business, moved to MO and back to MI, dated, engaged, and remarried
I interned in GA, graduated college, changed religions (sort of), dated my ex for two years, moved to IL, got my first full-time job, broke up with ex started dating current BF.
My family was 5 people. Dad died. Then it was 4. Now it’s 8 when you count marriages and births. Wow.
My father is basically my hero. I talk about him all the time. He annoyed me to no end (hello teenage years?) but I can’t think of anyone else besides my mother who I admire as much.
So anyway… am I sad? I’m sitting here at work wondering if I’m sad. So that tells me I’m not sad anymore. But do I miss him? Oh my. Yes. I do. It aches when I let myself open to the emotions.
I miss his sense of humor and the way he acted with his brothers who were even mroe goofy. I miss our talks together and how I could trust him 110% with anything, even if it embarrassed me. I love how he talked problems out instead of fighting or yelling. I miss him teachign me how to communicate. I miss the cute little pecks he’d give my mother in the kitchen as they passed each other. I miss the way I pretended it was gross when it actually filled my heart with happiness and security. I miss asking him for advice. I miss his gadget freak ways. I miss his sense of dignity. When I was around him, I knew he was unashamed, proud, and satisfied with life. I miss how he helped everyone around him be better people. I miss seeing him pray in the mornings out on the porch while he watched the birds eat at our six bird feeders. I miss how he wore winter hats in the summer because his head was cold. I miss watching him praise God with all his might, even with that oxygen tank standing beside him. I miss how affectionate he was even when it looked silly or felt weird. I miss how I never lacked for love.
I miss our future and all the opportunities and discoveries we could have had with him later in life.
But I will see him again.
David Robert Wilson K. (1948-2003) z”l