Dear Lit Loves,
Well, this is a somber weekend for me in some ways. I have taken the self-publishing route with my memoir manuscript. It is available via ebook now. I am awaiting the arrival of the proof print copy of the book in order to give the okay for it to go on sale. What is difficult for me now is that June 19th this year is not only Father's Day, but my dad's birthday. Only he died of complications due to lymphoma on June 9th, 2015. Last year on Father's Day I felt like someone had embedded an IED in my heart and it exploded. I also fell apart emotionally in a Hallmark store last year after going to get a thank you card and getting bombarded with the Father's Day advertising. I found myself leaving the store and sitting on a bench in the mall crying until I could pull myself together.
This year hasn't been easy either. Just for the record, I bought all the cards I would need to send in the months of May, June and July during the first week of May. I didn't want to experience the breakdown that I had last year in a Hallmark store. This year I will remember the picture I have of my dad holding me outside he and mom's first house when I was just a baby. I will remember him teaching me my vowels and reading to me. He taught me how to swim, dive into a pool and body surf in the ocean. He attended all my school performances and piano recitals. He attended professional wrestling matches with me because I absolutely loved pulling for Ric Flair. Usually by the end of the match, dad would be standing up screaming for Ric Flair, too. I miss my dad when our family has a barbecue together as he taught me how to use the grill. He also drew a picture of the writer O. Henry when I gave my first book and author presentation in ninth grade. And he taught me how to ride a bike and drive a car. I don't know who was more excited when I graduated from college: my dad or me. Man, he even came to observe me teach a class one day during my student teacher days.
Dad was there for me when I found myself married to an abusive, manipulative con artist during my first marriage. He helped me believe that as a woman I deserved better. He encouraged my independent streak. He protected my health by getting me to a doctor and hospital at age three when I contracted bacterial meningitis and was in the hospital for a month and survived the ordeal. He was also the one that accompanied me to UNC-Chapel Hill hospital when I was diagnosed with Meniere's disease at age eighteen. In later years, dad would come with mom and my brother to visit me for a week during my birthday so we could be together as a family unit once again. We would often work on my home garden together and plant peony bushes and knockout rose bushes together. He gave me my first jewelry box that plays the song "You Light Up My Life" when the box is opened. Last year on my birthday I spent it with him in the critical care unit of a hospital where he was in the final stage of life. We ate ice cream together because that was the only thing he would willingly eat at the time. And I was holding his hand by his bedside at Hospice when he took his final breath. Honestly, at the time I wished God would just take me too so I could journey with him to the great beyond.
Today I still start sobbing when I see a father and daughter at McDonald's sharing a Happy Meal together as we used to do that as well. Each time I see a man in his sixties driving around in a convertible Miata I silently say, "Hey Dad. Miss you, man". Once I was at a gas station this year and saw a man that looked a lot like my dad wearing an Atlanta Braves cap. I couldn't buy my gas after that because it hurt so badly emotionally. I had to get in my car and come back and buy gas later. Sometimes I just pray and ask dad to help me with a decision I have to make. Anytime I hear an Elvis Presley song or an Alan Jackson song, I think of my dad. I still hope my phone will ring and I will hear him on the only line facetiously saying, "Hey! This is Joe's Pool Hall and this is the 8 ball speaking. How ya doin'?" He was a character and a fine dadio.
So when you are out and about with your dad this weekend, remember he won't always physically be there to enjoy. He won't always be able to call you. He won't always be there for you to take him to lunch or supper or to enjoy a barbecue and baseball game with you. This year on Father's Day and my dad's birthday, I'll just have to keep my dad in my heart along with all my memories.
Best,
Grace
(Amy)
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