It's been fourteen years to the day that my dad passed away from stomach cancer. It's usually holidays and special events where I get in that zone that I miss my dad a lot. I think he would've been proud of the person that I've become. He was just seeing me reach my goal of becoming a teacher. He met a couple of boyfriends, but he hadn't met the one who I would marry. I was in my second year of teaching when he was diagnosed. He was given a year to live and that was a shock. We were told to make plans as a family. He and my mom travelled a lot, but I always stayed behind for school or work. In the end, he never got his year and he was gone. They didn't get their last trip.
If my dad were here, he would've had the chance to meet my husband and the girls. It would've been nice. He would've loved the eldest because she has the maturity and ability to think fast on her feet. She loves to read and has already blown through the entire Junie B. Jones series. She's seven, but going on seventeen at times. My middle child is quirky and sweet and I'm pretty sure that she would've had him wrapped around her finger. He wasn't one to show much emotion, but for her, he would've. She is also a bookworm and I'm sure that came from my dad and I. The baby is in her cutest stage right now - 22 months and a ball of energy. He could've kept up though. He played badminton and squash on a regular basis. He also loved to bike and played tennis when the weather was good.
Fourteen years and there are still some days I wish I could just ask my dad how to fix up something in the house (he was super handy). I wish I could talk to him about work, cars, life in general. It's a loss that's still felt even though time has passed. It's a day to remember him, but also share his memory with my girls. They never met him, but they can know him.
Published by Hip Teacher Mama -