Love, Loss And Fathers Day

A friend of mine at work lost her father recently. When I found out, the first thing I did was send her an e-mail offering my ear if she needed to talk. After all, no one else understands losing a parent quite like someone who has been through it before.

My Dad hasn't been with us for almost 11 years now, yet I can still remember the day he died as vividly as it was yesterday. Where I was standing in my Burbank, CA apartment when the phone rang. The sound of my sister-in-law's voice when she spoke my name that told me instantly that he was gone without her even saying the words. The call to the airline looking for a "bereavement" fare to get me home. The flood of thoughts about all the things I hoped to accomplish that I couldn't share with him. The loneliness in the thought that he wouldn't be there to walk me down the aisle if I ever got married.

Fathers Day has been hard for me ever since my Dad passed away, which really isn't fair to my brother, my uncles and all my wonderful friends who are such terrific fathers to their own families. I always make a point to send handmade Mothers Day cards to my closest friends, yet I can never seem to muster that same creative energy for the men that are just as important. Although I did write a blog about my brother this time last year of which I'm very proud -- check out "Coach Dad" if you missed it the first time around.

My guilt over not being there when my Dad died is one of the defining things about my character as an adult. While my family has always been so supportive of me living my life as I choose, if I have one regret it is that I wasn't around more in the last years of his life. Especially because my Dad was always one of my biggest cheerleaders. He was a simple man who worked very hard to give me every opportunity he didn't have. I attended a college far more expensive for my family than other choices I had, but he and my mother sacrificed things they wanted so I could get the education I desired. I graduated from college largely debt free, and he was there to see it. And even though fancy words and grand speeches weren't his style, I know he was proud of me.

I also regret I never spent more time getting to know him. Of course, I knew plenty about his life but I never asked he important questions about who HE was.

 What did he grow up wanting to be?  What were his dreams? What kept him up at night?  What would he change about his life if he could -- if he would even change anything? What was his greatest joy in life? What were his hopes for the future?

For those of you lucky enough to still have your father here on this Earth, cherish every moment with your Dad, even if he drives you crazy sometimes. Take nothing for granted. Find out who he is as a person. Never forget to tell him you love him.

And when the time comes and you need someone to talk to about how much you miss him, call me. I get it. And I have Kleenex. Trust me, you'll need it.