75– wow!
That means it has been 5 YEARS since the big 70th birthday party my mom threw at their house which feels WAY MORE RECENT than that. But! If you look at the photos we got him for that birthday, you can see we are all MUCH YOUNGER. Also the birthday party!! When Ben and I got home from a rowdy dinner out with Jon and Caleb the whole outside of my parents’ house smelled like gas. Like, light-a-cigarette-and-we’re-all-toast level gas. So I made my dad call the gas company and my mom was SO SO SO mad at me because she had a houseful of people set to arrive in less than 24 hours. But the gas smell was a CITY EMERGENCY, and they ripped up THE ENTIRE YARD (my parents’ house has a HUUUUUGE yard) to find and fix it. SO funny now, but very fraught in the moment. It was like 2am, and we were all awake watching a fleet of Bobcats destroy everything out the windows and knowing that Dorothy and Cooper would be up and at ‘em in like 4 hours.
But. 75. Wow. To acknowledge that kind of a milestone and not be able to celebrate with him is a lot. I miss him so much all of the time. I mean, I’m not walking around sad all day or anything like that, but something will happen and remind me of him, and bam! There it is— all that grief coiled up just under everything. Like, the (hilariously huge) wearable neck and back massager he gave me on what was his last Christmas was out of battery and I couldn’t find the charger, and I just sobbed for a second in my closet. (Where I found it under some boxes of badly hidden presents. It’s a really great massager.)
Ben and I planned to go out for a huge steak dinner to celebrate because getting dressed up and going out to dinner with my parents has been a favorite thing of ours since we were in our 20s. But I am a little sick with the low-level crud Harry and Minnie have had, and it is very cold, and Cooper has hockey practice. Instead, we will have vodka tonics and make his favorite fudge and scratch off some lottery tickets in his honor and maybe watch a bad movie or some weird documentary series and fall asleep on the couch, wake up, eat some more fudge, and go to bed. Which is what we would would have done with him after the dinner out.
Here’s the last pic we took together, Easter 2019:
It’s a pretty great picture, especially when you feel a little (or a lot) sad.
I am so sorry for your loss, Sarah. It is so hard to lose a beloved family member. I am lucky to have both of my parents. My husband lost his dad about 9 years ago and the holidays have never really been the same for them. And then there are always what I call "grief landmines" that you encounter with no warning.
ReplyDeleteMy dad actually turns 75 tomorrow, so our dads were only born a day apart!
My dad HATED sharing his birthday limelight with Christmas how whole life— does yours have any angst?
DeleteThanks for sharing these little glimpses of your dad. Happy birthday to him, and happy memories to you, and sending you lots of love for all those coiled-grief moments.
ReplyDeleteThanks
DeleteYour Dad sounds like so much fun and what a wonderful picture. I am so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteThis time of year must be extra bittersweet without such a loving member of your family around to celebrate. There is no expiration on grief, but I hope you feel his presence and love.
And I appreciate the reminder to get in the picture frame with my parents. We got a photo of our family on Christmas Eve and I realized it's the only picture I have of my husband and kids + my parents since...maybe ever? I and I am just so glad we captured that moment because I realize that there are no guarantees in life.
Sending hugs as you remember such a special someone <3
Thank you
DeleteHugs to you and hoping you find comfort in your memories.
ReplyDeleteThank you— we definitely do
DeleteI miss my parents most of all around the holidays. My dad would be 79 now, and he died at 74...and it still hurts so much. My mom would be 80, and she died at 66. That one hurts a lot too, but I've had longer to get used to it. In some ways, I feel like I will never get used to it, but in reality, time does march on. I love the way you will celebrate his life, and that picture is priceless.
ReplyDeleteIt’s so interesting to me to mark how the grief changes but doesn’t fade necessarily. I hope you had a lovely holiday, grief and all.
DeleteAwww, I am so sorry about your Dad. It's hard to see pictures that seem "recent" and then realize that people are missing from your life now. Big hugs.
ReplyDelete