When You Lose Your Cheerleader

One of the hardest things to comprehend about an extreme loss, especially when you lose a parent, is the loss is bigger than them just not being there. It's a confidence shaker. Why? Think about your parents, and all the times they stood behind you or all the things of yours they came to...they've been your biggest cheerleader and supporter. Now think what a life without that unconditional emotional support is like. One thing I miss so much (although if he was here, he'd drive me nuts about it) is having him be the cheerleader as I venture through unemployment. He would've annoyingly "solved" the problem by pestering all his contacts until one of them hired me to shut him up. He'd be on the sidelines of my life rooting me on to get the job. 

I share all of this to help people who haven't lost immediate family understand more about all the ways the loss affects you. It's physical, and it's emotional in all aspects. It also doesn't matter that he's been gone so many years, in fact the length of his time gone is sometimes harder. All these moments, decisions and life choices made...without my other cheerleader screaming obscenities as he roots on his little girl. Tonight, I really miss him and wish I could hear his voice. 

When Father's Day Finally Became Happy Again

Until June of 2014, Father's Day was always a day full of grief. I watched as friends posted happy memories of their dads, but I only had pictures to post of what I once had. My pictures show the age of how long it had been without him. 14 years of a day centered around celebrating a man who wasn't there. It was too devastating to bear. Then, like a sign from dad, my daughter was born on Father's Day weekend. I got to celebrate the day again by celebrating my husband as a dad. He's the best dad! So loving, doting and caring...he makes her world go round. The day finally became filled with happiness again. I was able to buy Father's Day gifts again, and the day isn't as bad anymore. Don't get me wrong, I still absolutely miss my dad. This day still hurts because he's not here, but my husband and daughter make it better. I would give anything to be able to call or see my dad, and I will when I leave this world, but until then, I have these two to enjoy. 

Happy Father's Day to my daddy in heaven, and to my amazing husband!

And if you still have your dad, call him, see him, hug him and tell him you love him. One day, you won't be able to do it anymore. 

Talk to me Goose...

It's so interesting to me even after all the years that have gone by since my dad passed away how in the most unlikely of places and moments something instantly reminds you of the loved one you lost.

My dad was a huge personality, and he loved to embarrass, impress, annoy or over-the-top show his love. I so distinctly remember how my dad loved to blast the volume and show off his surround sound system. It reminds me of the part in the Italian Job one of the characters wants speakers so loud it would blast a woman's dress off. Dad loved to crank it loud, pump up the bass and shake everything in the area. He got such a kick out of it. I've lost a lot of memories of him, but this is one I'll never forget. Dad's favorite movie/soundtrack to use? The opening song in Top Gun. So melodic, with the navy planes blasting and a ton of boom, it was his giddy joy to make people jump when all the loud noises kicked in.

A couple of weeks ago, I was visiting with my former boss and his son took me on a tour of their home. The highlight was the movie room. As he worked to play something and crank the volume, the memory of dad came top of mind at a speed of quickness I can't explain. It's sad and joyous all in the same moment. Grief does that, pulls many emotions out all at once. As they talk and play a movie, all I can think about is that moment and what life would be like if he were here today. I just know dad would have a movie room with Top Gun constantly prepped to play at a moments notice. 

I'm even reminded of it again as I scroll through our DVR to pick a movie to fall asleep to and pass Top Gun in the list. I crack a smile, a tiny laugh and a have brief memory of the first man I loved. Maybe it's a subtle way he reminds me he's still around or just a precious internal way of keeping him alive, but I love it. For a brief moment he's alive again and never left. I live for little moments like this. It's what anyone who grieves does. In the midst of a point in life filled with uncertainty, this give me peace. What a wonderful gift.   

16.

16 years. This anniversary of my dad's death tomorrow means something different this year. I was 16 the day my dad left this earth and went to heaven. I've been dreading this one since the moment he died. I figured it out in my head that day. So, what's the significance behind this one? It means every second, minute, hour, day, month and year from this moment on, I will have lived longer on this Earth without my dad than with him alive. 

I feel as though my grief is stronger now than it was then, for many reasons. Mainly, my life has a deeper meaning since having a husband and baby. At the time, no big milestones had passed. Now, everything I realized he'd never be a part of has happened in the 16 years without him. I graduated high school, graduated college, got my first big girl job, met and married the love of my life and had a baby. All without the man who made my life possible. He's missed all of them. 

I really grieve today what I didn't know I had lost then. Grief doesn't end just because a certain number of years have passed. I think of him everyday. More than I did in the years immediately afterwards. It was a long, messy journey to reach this day. There was more heartache than I ever knew one person could feel. A part of me died the day he left. And since that day, when I see a butterfly, hear a certain song, drive through his hometown or stare at my daughter's hair (that is my dad's exact color), my heart fills with loss and the tears flow. What no one can explain is the lifelong sadness you continuously feel, which for me has grown stronger with each day that passes. 

From the moment I wake up tomorrow, I will have truly lived a lifetime without the man who shaped the woman I grew in to. I hope he's had a front row seat to it in heaven -- and is proud. I think he is. I hope he continues to be my guardian angel and guides me through life from a far. May he be the one who opens every window when a door closes for me, my mom, my husband and daughter. 16-32...I survived, in mainly one piece. I pray the next 16 years and beyond are full of wonderful experiences and my biggest cheerleader is rooting me on, all while telling all the other angels to gather the Bloody Mary's and come on over.