source: johnnycupcakes
It was Thanksgiving Day, 2004 and we had just buried my Dad. My lovely, sweet, kind and wonderful Dad. Gone from us.
I had been home to see him about month before, when we knew things weren’t going well, and I had tried to say my good-byes. Sort of. Because you’re never really able to say all that you want to say. I told him I loved him, tried my best to thank him for being the best Dad ever, and clung to him until it was time to leave for the airport.
I hugged my mom and sisters, boarded the plane and headed back to the United States; away from the family farm in rural Saskatchewan.
It was Thanksgiving day and I never realized until then what a gift a light travel day could be. What I had always imagined would be such a lonesome, awful thing to do turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
The plane was nearly empty. I didn’t have to make small talk with anyone.
I sat alone.
I ate alone.
I read.
I slept.
I cried softly into the darkness.
It was on that plane, on Thanksgiving Day, that I was, once again, overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for the gift of a kind and loving father. For 80+ years. Who gets that? I did. Lucky.
You didn’t know my Dad, so let me tell you a little about him. His name was Lloyd. He stashed cookies in his pocket & licorice in his truck. He didn’t travel without his newest favorite cap or a little grin on his face. He loved people, but he had a soft spot for children. He taught me where to find Saskatoon berries, to love and care for animals & appreciate the land we farmed, to be fearless, to drive a stick shift, to read the sky, and to dance while standing on his shoes. He taught me that real men cry, adore their wives, tickle their children, and are playful, gentle and loyal. My Dad was a man of few words. He didn’t need them I suppose. His actions spoke volumes. My Dad .. showed up.
6 years have passed since he left us and it never gets easier.
You never get over it. Time does not heal; that, my friends, is a lie.
We. Just. Get. Through. It.
I Miss you Dad, on this day and every day.
You’re one of the luckiest
for having a great Dad.
Indeed I am; I know that’s a gift not everyone gets. Thanks for stopping on by bendedspoon
Nicely written, it made me tear up. No wonder you turned out so well
Thanks, Ter. As you could tell, I loved my Dad and he loved me. That was the greatest gift he ever gave.
Beautiful! I know how hard this is, I lost my Mom this past summer and my Dad has been gone for 12 yrs now. Your story brought tears to my eyes, you were so blessed to have him.
Nicely written and out of love, I’m sure he would be proud. In grief, we are all united.
Thank you Faithdream. I’m sorry for your loss as well. Thank you for your kindness, it really does help ..
Glad you stopped by, MJ
Wonderful, beautiful testimony of a Daughter’s love for her Dad. I see many resemblences! I have to go get a tissue…
Thank you Coach Beth; I loved him and he loved me and Oh how I cried the day he died, cause I thought .. he walked .. on water (( from a Randy Travis song .. that I can’t sing along to)).
I am so sorry for your loss. Your words paint a picture of an amazing man and a gentle soul. Everyone should be so lucky as to have such a father.
Thank you for your kindness, Territerri; he was a wonderful, kind man and someone that wish everyone could have met. Thanks for stopping by!
Awww…that was a very nice tribute and I see you are a lot like him of being short, sweet and to the point of what you have to say to get your point (LOVE) across in regards you Daddy. I love licorice, but keep it at home or I am sure I would regret it….my friend is always giving it to me too…lol. Have a wonderful weekend!
Thank you II; your kind words are very much appreciated. MJ
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