It will be a very different type of Father’s Day in our home this year. My Dad passed away two months ago. He was the apple of my eye and I his. He was my guiding light, my confidant, my champion. When my beautiful mom was diagnosed with dementia seven years ago, my Dad went to extremes to fill the massive gap left behind for all of us. As I saw the light behind my Mom’s eyes become dimmer and dimmer, I saw the light in him brighten... blinding us with his love and compassion and sheltering us from the pain.
Although I was always incredibly close to my Mom and Dad, some might call it too close, when faced with the prospect of losing my incredibly special relationship with my mother, my Dad stepped up to fill her shoes. His game was strong. By the time of his death a couple of months ago, there wasn’t a subject we wouldn’t or couldn’t discuss.
We’d Facetime a few times a day. We’d discuss the daily going’s on in our lives… from his cancer treatment to my IVF escapades. We got to spend the last six months of my Dad’s life caring for him. My husband became just as close to my Dad as I was. It was a special time.
Throughout my Dad’s illness, we never gave up hope. On the day my Dad died, he was still hoping…. hoping that he would get home to my Mom, his beloved Grace… hoping that he’d get better and live to see Trevor and I have a baby, hoping that he would become well enough to receive that ever elusive next round of chemotherapy. Hope was a thing that carried us through every single day. Looking back I’m so grateful that we were allowed to cling to hope until those last few hours. It allowed us to laugh, cry, bicker, celebrate the good days and tolerate the bad.
We lost my Dad on April 11th and he left behind a void so big that some days I don’t know whether it will ever be bridged. The pain is sometimes overwhelming. It doesn’t matter that he was 77. It doesn’t matter that he had been sick. He was my beautiful Dado.
Every Father’s Day, I’d send my Dad a card and a poem. On it I’d write, 'thanks for being the best Dad in the world' and every year Dad would joke that I should change up the message. I won’t send a card this year but I’ll still celebrate the man who to me was the most amazing Dad to ever have lived. I’ll chat to him and I’ll joke with him the way I always did. I can only wish that I could see his lovely face again or ask him how his day has been.
But I still have hope. I feel him with me everyday and i hope that he is. I hope that he’ll help Trevor and I on our IVF journey. I hope that my Mom won't remember that he's gone. And I hope that one day my tears of overwhelming sadness for the loss of my Dad will turn to happy ones. Happy tears that allow me to celebrate him, his life and understand why he was taken from us. I know they’ll come. I know he’ll help me find them.
For those of you who’ve lost your father, I hope you can find some happy tears this Father’s Day. For those of you who are lucky enough to be able to call up your Dad and say I love you… celebrate and hold that privilege so close to your heart and never let it go.
Father’s Day comes and goes… each one different to the last…. some more different than others. We’ll get through this one… because we have to. Who knows... maybe next year we’ll be celebrating Father’s Day in an entirely different way!! If my Dad has anything to do with it, we certainly will… Here’s hoping! Lisa x