I Miss My Dad


Dear friend,

Thank you for your site; it has helped reading what others have shared about what they are feeling. You are to be commended for this "help" that you are offering to others.

When my Dad passed away last July 25, 2001, my brother and I wrote this message. It was included in the "order of service" brochure at his funeral.

Dad was seventy-six years old and was a very active man until last May 26. He had a heart attack on May 26, spent four weeks in hospital until he was well enough to go home. Unfortunately, he had kidney complications. He returned to the hospital on June 29 and then suffered another heart attack on June 30. He had to be revived that day. (On July 1 in the ICU, he told us about the "pretty dream" he had the previous day when he dreamt about meeting his parents and grandparents.) Dialysis treatments seemed to be helping Dad during July but then, on July 25, very early in the morning (his favorite time of day), Dad left quickly, quietly, and alone. The nurse told us that he had got up to sit in a chair in his hospital room to watch the sun rise... just like he always did; he liked to have his coffee out on the deck early in morning for he loved the morning. The nurse said that Dad told her that he was fine when she went in to see him around 5:00 a.m. He died around 5:30 a.m.

July 25, 2001

Dear Dad,

Well Dad, you finally have the chance to join your parents and your grandparents after that "pretty dream" that you first started last June 30. They have been waiting for you for a long time in heaven, and now, you have finally fallen asleep in the arms of the Lord. You have stepped on the threshold of that special place many times, but you always came back because you knew that we needed you more. Now, however, you know that we want you to sleep peacefully. You fought a valiant fight and you deserve your rest. As we watched you through this last battle over the past two months, you taught us many, many more lessons about life. You gave us strength to understand and peace to accept why you had to leave.

Don't worry about Mom. Of course, she will miss you each and every day but we will look after her for you. Dad, we will all miss you but there will be countless reminders of "you" in each of us. We will carry you in our hearts and minds forever. Through all of our successes and failures, our dreams and our challenges, you were always there. Thanks for being so proud of us. Thanks for being such a wonderful father. You are and always will be our hero. Sweet dreams, Dad. We look forward to the days when we will all be together again.

Love,
Your sons

And now, it is almost two months later and these are thoughts that I wrote in my journal last night before discovering your site today...

September 22, 2001 Time has passed since I last wrote here. I have thought about it but I have not wanted to… for some strange reason, I have preferred to keep things inside of me. Work has helped to a degree; when I am there, I am busy.

We are in the first days of autumn now… the third season since your illness started. You were here in Spring, you died in summer, and now, it is the third season already. The time has gone by so quickly. In just a few days, it will be two months since you left us.

I am not as lost right now. My concerns are more for Mom than they are for me. I know how very, very lonely she is and I know that she cries a lot. It is probably good for her to get these tears out of her but it must be such a very lonely, sad thing to be all by herself after so many years with you , Dad. I hope that you can find a way to comfort her somehow. We are trying but maybe you can give her sweet, pleasant dreams about happy times or maybe you can help her have memories of happier times. I think that she is lost right now. Each day, we try something else but it is never really quite enough.

The ache is incredible from time to time. This evening, I went to pick some flowers before the frost. There are two beautiful vases of brown-eyed Susan in the house. They were your favorites and you planted them here four days before your heart attack. They are incredible but as I arranged them in their vases, the tears started to flow. This week, also, I started to think about Xmas. The “empty chair” will be difficult. In just a few days, it will be your 55th wedding anniversary. I will go to spend some days with Mom. I am worried about her. She is not herself. The other day on the phone (I still call her every day) she said she still thinks that you are going to come in the door. She knows that is not going to happen. Maybe she wishes she could have told you something before you left. I’m not sure.

I often wonder if you are cold. It seems so very unreal that you are under the ground. I think about that often. It’s not really something that I can talk about to many people. For others, life goes on at a faster pace. We are still trapped in our sorrow and living our grief. As a result, it is not always easy to bring up the subject of your passing. I talk to Mom about it. Maybe I shouldn’t be calling her every day but she seems to appreciate it. Anyway, I guess you aren’t cold. Your body is buried but your spirit is soaring with the birds. Your shell is left to return to the earth.

I miss you Dad. I miss not being able to hear your voice like when I would call. Mom would almost always answer the phone and then she would call for you and you would come on the other line. I miss hearing your voice… I don’t want to forget that voice and I’m afraid that I just might… in time.

I am wearing your ring. Mom gave it to me. It was something that I really wanted to have as a souvenir of you. In all my memories of you, I see you wearing this ring. I was proud when you asked me to wear it while you were in the hospital. You told me then that you had it for over fifty years. It is most beautiful and I will treasure it always. It will keep you close to me but I must admit, that it seems so very, very strange to see it on my finger...

Take care, Dad. I think that I need to go to sleep as it is after midnight. I don’t like the dark sometimes… the nights can be long. Sleep does not always come easy. This hurts a lot. And, it hurts to think about Mom being so very alone.

I love you Dad. Thanks for being so good to us. I hope that you are okay… wherever you are. I hope that you are really with your parents and grandparents.

Good night, Dad.
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