Letter to Daddy

My Dearest Daddy,

Well, where do I begin?  I absolutely can not believe it has been 10 months since I saw you last.  A lot has happened.   I am sure you know all this, but I am having a night where I just want to let out some emotions, so I decided to write you a letter.  

Momma is doing pretty good.  I take good care of her.  We spend a lot of time together.  No more, really, than before you left, but it seems to be more quality time, just with her.  I really think she and I have become closer.  I hate that it didn't happen sooner.  It's not really because you left, but just an appreciation of what you have after you lose someone so precious.  I hope that makes sense.   Momma is getting around pretty good.  I really wish she could get around with no pain and walk without shortness of breath, but I am happy she seems to be doing better.  She misses you dearly.  I know she probably regrets not hugging and kissing you more, but she knows you know that you were her world.  She is still mourning....I can tell.  Just the smallest thing will make her cry.  We have made it through some holidays ok.  They were hard and you were really missed.  I am 33 now.  Can you believe that?  

I am also taking good care of your babies.  They so love me.  I am their "gravy train"....my term for the fact that they know I am the one who feeds them.  We gave Gigi and Sassy both super short haircuts earlier in the summer.  Boy, did they feel good.  I keep planning on giving them all baths, but it has rained for 2 weeks straight and I want the ground to dry before I bathe them, so they don't get nasty so quick.  Oh, and we lost Spice, although I am sure she is sitting on your lap now, so she is happy.  That Pepper became VERY attached to me.  He is super affectionate now....he runs to me like a puppy when I get to Momma's.  He still loves to play fetch and cuddle....like always.  

It's almost fall.  You know how I love Halloween, and we will be having the same get-together, trick or treat nite here.  It should be fun....you know I love to entertain.  You always used to say that.  I am looking forward to it.  It's on Saturday this year.  Lexie picked out a "leopard girl" costume online this weekend, but you know she will change her mind before the day comes, so I don't know what she will end up being...other than cute as a button!

Speaking of Lexie, she talks about you ALL THE TIME.  It amazes us how much she talks about you.  She wasn't as outwardly upset as we all were, mostly because she didn't fully understand or she had such a simple view of what was happening...I really don't know.  But, she talks about you and draws pictures about you all the time.  She has told me many times she misses you.  Oh, and she made Straight A's this first nine weeks....she's a smart one, for sure!  But, again, I am sure you know and are bragging to your buddies about her up in heaven.

Daddy, I miss you so much it hurts.  Hurts really bad.  Some days feel normal and then I feel so guilty about how normal they feel, because they shouldn't feel normal without seeing you.  I think about you daily, but some days I think about you much more.  I dream about you more than anyone else, it seems....or at least I remember them much more than anyone else.  I smell you from time to time.  It's shocking sometimes, but really comforting, too.  The smells are gone so fast, and I wish I could smell you more often.  When I smell you, I know you are with me.  I just know it.  Scarlet and Rhett are doing good.  Both a little chunky, but what's new.  Rhett still eats "Pappy Treats" daily, and lets me know if I haven't given him any and he thinks I should have!

Oh, how I need a hug from my daddy today.  It's not a special day...just missed you all weekend.  I don't know what triggered it, but I have thought about you and wanted to talk to you all weekend.  I want a hug.  I want to talk to you on the phone....you know, my nightly call.  I want to hear your voice.  I want you back in person.  I saw a man at Sonic today that didn't really look like you, but favored you in a way, in his manorisms.  I kept staring at him.  The way her looked at folks, the way he drank his drink.  And even his casual smile when he caught me looking at him.  It so reminded me of you.  I wish I could have you back just for one day.  I'd call in sick and wouldn't stop hugging you and talking to you.  You'd be so sick of me....I am sure you would.  I miss your sweet remarks to me.  You always called me "beautiful" or "pretty girl".  I miss being called pumpkin.  

I hope you are happy, Daddy.  I hope you are in the most beautiful place imaginable.  I hope you are loving on all the sweet puppies and kitties up there...we all know all dogs (and cats) go to heaven!  I hope you can enjoy all the sweets you want.  It's hard to imagine where you are.  Sometimes, I wonder if it is like I heard.  That Heaven is just 4 feet above earth...like all around.  So, you are within touching distance, but I just can't touch or see you.  But you are with me every day, making sure I am safe.  Keeping a close eye on me to make sure I am alright.  Keep sending me smells, Daddy.  I love em!  I think I have heard sounds or signs, too.  Keep em coming...whatever they are.  I will try to stay open to hearing them and recognize them as you.  Judy always says if there is anyone you will try to contact, it would be me, your "Pumpkin" and "Baby Girl."  

Well, this letter hasn't been quite eloquent or even well written.  At times, super sporatic.  I am sure I will have forgotten to say some things, but this is all that flowed out of my tired little brain, so this is it.  You are in my heart always and forever.  You know how much I love you, so I will just close with....

Until I see (you in my dreams)/smell (your cologne)/or hug you again.

Love always and forever!

Pumpkin (Baby Girl)

Smells and Memories

Isn't it funny how a smell can bring back memories long forgotten or evoke warm feelings from different eras of your life?  Or remind you of someone special.   My Daddy always smelled so good.  He wore many different colognes over the years, but they all had a very distinct similar smell.  People commented all the time how good he always smelled.  Since Daddy died, I have had numerous moments where I smelled him.  Like he was right there with me, and his scent was his way of letting me know he is still with me.  

This week has been hard for some reason.  It started last Sunday during an early morning trip to Kmart, of all places.  As I was leaving Kmart and starting to drive out of the parking lot, for some reason, I looked over at this car that had just parked.  To my shock, the man sitting in the passenger seat looked so much like my Daddy, it took my breath away.  He was wearing a baseball hat, much like my daddy did most days of his life, and a golf shirt, just like my daddy always wore.  This alone is not so much a shocking combination, but his face resembled Daddy's, too.  The part that really shook me up, is that he looked at me almost as if he was looking into my soul and he held my gaze the entire time as I passed them.  This moment seemed as if it were slow motion.  Then, he smiled at me and waved, and my heart broke into a thousand pieces.  His smile was IDENTICAL to my Daddy's.  A big, toothy grin, with his eyes crinkled up.  The kind of smile that you can't help but reciprocate.  And the sweet little wave.  That little gesture was so reminiscent of my Daddy.  As soon as I passed him, my eyes welled up with tears, and I began to bawl like a baby.  I looked in my rear-view mirror and watched him as he and his wife got out of the car and began to walk towards the entrance.  Even his walk reminded me of my daddy.  He was walking a little slow as if he was ailed in some way, but trying really hard not to let it show.  Just like my daddy did.  I drove as slow as I could, and contemplated turning around and going into Kmart to look at him some more.  I knew that 2 scenarios could happen.  The first being that he really would look just like my daddy, and it would shake me up or he wouldn't really look like my daddy, and I would feel let down.  So, I decided to drive on and let the moment be mine without any complications, and believe whether the man really looked like my daddy or not, he did at that moment.  Maybe Daddy was just smiling and waving at me.  

This moment from Sunday has weighed on my mind all week.  Tuesday night, I had another dream about Daddy.  It wasn't really a good dream, like the prior few I have had, so I won't go into details, but when I woke up, I was upset from the dream.  I decided to go to the bathroom, and as I walked out of the bathroom, I got a whiff of my Daddy's cologne.  Very distinctly, I smelled him for a few seconds, and then it was gone.  I walked back towards the bathroom - no smell.  Back into the dining room - no smell.  Back towards the bathroom and past - no smell.  I couldn't smell him anymore, but the smell had been so strong for a few moments, there is no doubt in my mind that I did smell it.  I smelled my daddy.  

I have smelled Daddy several times over the months since he passed.  How can it not be that he is with me?  It is so close to me when it happens that Daddy has to be hugging me.  And I will continue to believe that.  And hope I continue "smell hugging" him.....

Holidays and Guilt

Holidays have definantly been the hardest days to endure since Daddy died.  Christmas, the one day of the year that most people look forward to and enjoy the most over any other day of the year, was the hardest one, yet.  Christmas came not even a full month after Daddy died.  

It was incredibly hard to put up the Christmas tree this past year.  I have been the main person to assemble and decorate the tree at my parent's house for years, due to their age and health.  Each year, Daddy would always be very excited when the tree went up and he would come in the living room and help fluff the branches.  My mother would usually tell him he wasn't doing it right, but he would always stay in there, sit, and help fluff.  I would them tell momma to stop fussing...that it was sweet of him to want to help.  In it's own disfunctional way, it had become the Christmas tradition.  And I loved every minute of it.  

About 6 years ago, the day after Christmas, my daddy had gone out and bought a big tree.  One that is really almost too big and tall for my parent's house.  It is so big and grand and full, I have to manipulate it to even make it work, but it always turns out beautiful in the end.  This year, merely days before Christmas, I mustered up all I had and told Mom I had to put up a tree.  It wouldn't be Christmas without a Christmas Tree.  But the thought of putting up Daddy's tree, just broke my heart.  It would take a long time, since it was so huge and had many parts, and without Daddy sitting in the wingback chair fluffing out branches, I just didn't think I could handle it.  All those memories would be coming back and I just knew I would break down.  So, I asked Mom if I could just bring my old one over and put it up, since it was a 3 piece tree and wouldn't take long.  Honestly, I think she was feeling the same way I did, so she agreed, and the dinky tree went up.  It was so small, I actually ended up putting encyclopedias under the stand and covering them with the tree skirt to make it appear more substantial.  I decided that since it was so small, there was also no need to rearrange the furniture in the living room.  So, here was Christmas with none of the normal traditions and no Christmas spirit.  

But, then I realized that Daddy would feel so bad if he thought he had ruined Christmas, so, I decorated that tree with all the normal trimmings and kept telling Momma how Daddy would be mad if we didn't have Christmas. We did all the Christmas shopping, wrapping, and anticipated the day, not knowing how we would handle it.  

Christmas morning came and we all gathered around 9am, just like normal.  No one sat in Daddy's chair the entire day.  It was an unspoken feeling amongst everyone.  That was Daddy's chair and he could never be replaced.  I feel he was there that day, sitting in his chair, and probably laughing as Lexie opened her presents and played on her Wii.  As the day progressed, there were some tears, but there was also laughter and love.  

A few other holidays have come and gone.  Daddy's birthday, Valentines Day, Mom's birthday.  Holidays are the hardest, for sure.  My family always made a huge deal out of holidays.  Celebrating holidays is hard without Daddy being here with us, but what is even harder on me is all the other days.  It has been almost 6 months and I find myself almost returning to the old "me."  Not crying and feeling depressed and sad all the time.  My "bad days" are fewer and farther between.  I find myself smiling, joking and feeling normal.  Then I have these guilty thoughts, like, how can we be just going on and acting normal without my Daddy?  It isn't that he is forgotten, but somehow, we have become used to him not being around anymore.  How can this be?  How can such a prominent figure in my life for the past 32 years be gone, and I am already used to it?  This is where the guilt has come in.  There were so many moments after Daddy died that I would want to pick up the phone and call him and tell him all about it or just call to see how he was feeling.  He used to call me every single night, just to chat for one reason or another.  Oh, how I miss those calls.  There have been so many joke emails that I have read and wanted to forward to him, because he would have loved them.  Now it has become the norm not to expect a call from him, not to want to tell him when exciting things happen, not to email him.  I have become used to him not being here, and this pains me even more that missing him on those special days we call holidays.  Until November 27, 2008, not a single day in my life had passed where I didn't talk to my Daddy, and there were very few, really, that I didn't see him.  I made it a priority in life to see him daily, just because, you never know for sure if you will have another day.  I am so very glad I made this a priority now.  

So, here I am feeling guilty.  I know it is a normal phase, but it just doesn't seem right to be able to go on and carry on like normal.  I do know for sure, though, that the hole in my heart will never heal or be filled with anyone else's love.  But I am ok with this.  This is one scar I don't ever want to go away.  No matter how much it hurts at times for him to be gone, I don't want to be void of all emotions for my Daddy.  I want to miss him so badly it hurts, because it proves how deep my love for him is and will always be.  I am Daddy's little girl and will always be....I promised him that, and I keep my promises.

I love you, Daddy!

- Pumpkin 

The Rainbow

I have thought so many times that I need to get this memory down in words before the vivid details fade.  So, here is the story of the rainbow.

The 2 days after daddy passed away, it had rained.  Yucky rainy weather.  Not good for the spirits of a family mourning such a huge loss.  As those 2 days passed, we made all the arrangements, and kept hoping for a sunny day for the funeral.  On that Sunday morning, we were all so relieved to look outside and see sunny skies.  Thank goodness for God opening up the skies and providing us with a beautiful sunny day.  The entire time of the visitation and funeral the skies remained beautiful.  After the funeral service, as the casket was loaded into the hearse, and everyone began forming the funeral procession, the wind began blowing fiercely and the skies began to threaten a horrible downpour of rain.  We began driving the 10 minutes or so to Memorial Gardens, and the closer we got, the worse the weather looked.  The entire ride, I commented on how awful this was.  Why did it have to rain, now, of all times, when we were about to lay my daddy in his final resting place!  Why did it just have to storm right now, at this moment?  The most emotional moments of the entire past few days.  Why?!?!

About 1 minute before we arrived, the bottom fell out.  It was windy and awful.  Then, just as we were getting my mother out of the vehicle and proceeding to walk towards the grave side, it stopped raining.  Just stopped.  The moment was very surreal.  I don't remember all of what was going on at this time, and I don't even remember who said the next statement, but I heard someone say "Oh, my goodness!  Look at that rainbow!"  Then someone else said "Look, Pam!  Look at that Rainbow!"  I looked out toward the tree line, just where the clouds had opened up to let a ray of sun shine through, and there it was.....the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen.  Not just a single rainbow, but a double rainbow!  The main rainbow was super vivid, full of the most beautiful colors nature could have ever created.  The second rainbow overlapped the main rainbow and was a bit dimmer, but still a complete rainbow.  We all stood there in amazement looking at this beautiful miracle of nature, and in that very moment, I was overcome with peace.  I know with all my heart that my daddy sent this rainbow at this very moment as a sign for my whole family that he was OK.  That he was happy and peaceful and finally living again in a much better  place.  Daddy always did things with such grandeur.  He was full of life, wore the brightest colors he could find, and laughed from the depth of his belly with a big bright smile.  These 2 rainbows were my daddy.  Bright, colorful, beautiful and captivating.  You can't look at a rainbow without smiling, and you couldn't look at my daddy without smiling.  The rainbows began to fade as we walked to the graveside, but that image is emblazened in my memory, just as vividly as that day.  

So, why did it have to rain?  The most simple answer is that it had to rain for Daddy to be able to send us those rainbows.  But, more than that, the symbolism of that day is that storms happen in life.  We will go through bad times, but we should always be looking for the rainbow at the end.  And seeing that rainbow after enduring rough patches in life will definantly make you appreciate the rainbow even more.  

Now, every time I see a rainbow, I think of my daddy.  What a wonderful thing to remember him by!  I never truly appreciated the awesome beauty of a rainbow until that day, but I will never see a rainbow again without truly enjoying them.  And, I believe every rainbow I have the honor of seeing will be brought to me by my daddy, as a gift, and I will enjoy them to the fullest.  It was my daddy's last lesson to me....look past the bad times, ride out the storm, and enjoy the rainbows in life.  

A Precious Man

In many ways, working at the hospital is a blessing.  While Daddy was sick, during numerous hospital stays this past year, I was able to spend much more time than most people with him.  I was able to go help him eat breakfast and lunch and I was also able to go check on him numerous times a day.  He was only a short walk away from my desk.  It was truly a blessing.  

Now that he is gone, at times, it is heart wrenching.  I never realized how awful it would feel to drive up to that building numerous times every week.  To have to make the same trip we made that last day, day after day.  I get this awful knot in my stomach every time I am pulling in the parking lot, re-living the final moments of my Daddy's life.  I do really love my job - especially, the people I work with.  I hope, one day, I won't dread the drive up.  Even walking the halls seems to evoke flashbacks to the final days.  At times, I wish I could just go somewhere else, so I wouldn't be constantly reminded of those days.  

And then, a day happens, where I feel so loved and I feel the love others have for Daddy.  I always knew my daddy was such a kind hearted man.  He was funny and just plain lovable.  Everyone loved my Daddy.  He was so charismatic....he just drew people in.    

Today, at work, I came in contact with so many people, offering hugs and support.  Telling me how sorry they are and recounting things about Daddy.  One lady, our wound care nurse, had visited and cared for daddy on numerous occasions.  I rode up in the elevator with her today and she told me how sorry she was and then said, "He was such a precious man."  I couldn't have put it better myself.  Daddy was just plain precious.  

I am missing him horribly today.  I know it hasn't been that long, and it is less than a week til Christmas.  Everyone keeps telling me that.  But, I can't think I will ever miss him any less.  I wonder sometimes, how can we go on and have Christmas?  A major part of our family is gone.  How can we celebrate without him?  The thought of Christmas morning, without Daddy sitting in "his chair" in the corner of the living room just makes me feel awful.  I was wrapping presents last night, and I came across a Christmas tag that I had messed up on and not used last year, and it said,"To: Daddy, From:Pam."  Oh, how I wish I was sticking those all over presents to him this year.  I can't imagine not having him there on all holidays.  Not having him at my wedding.  Him not being there, peeking in the nursery window at my future baby.  Him never calling me on the phone again.  Never hugging him again.  Never saying "I love you, Daddy-O!"  and never hearing, "I love you, Pumpkin."  

But, he was precious.  He would tell me to quit moping and we better have a good Christmas.  So, we are going to try.  I am making some really sweet homemade gifts for my family.  Great pictures with a handmade twist.  They will love them and I know Daddy would tell me how great they are and how thoughtful I am.  So, we will go on and have Christmas.  I have a feeling Daddy will be sitting in his corner, watching us all.

Amazing

My daddy was so appreciative of everything I did for him.  I can't tell you how many times he gave me a hundred dollar bill just because "you do so much around here."   I would always say, "Daddy, you don't have to pay me.  You gave me life and raised me.  That's enough."  But he would always persist.  

The last weekend he was at home, before he went into the hospital for the last time, I don't even remember what all I had done.  I am sure it had something to do with errand running, cleaning, or cooking.  I got done with whatever it was that I was doing, and I walked into daddy's room to tell him I was done and would be leaving soon, and he looked at me, smiled and said, "you are amazing, you know that?"  Those words are emblazoned on my mind.  Amazing?  I don't feel amazing...ever.  I often feel like, no matter how much I do, or how hard I work, I never get EVERYTHING done.  I always feel like I could have done more and I am never done.   I am sure that I did nothing super amazing that day, but to my daddy, I was.  I will forever remember him telling me that and will continually strive to be what my daddy saw me as.  

It's all in your perspective.  Sometimes things that seem so small to you are amazing to others.  Small acts of kindness.  A smile.  A touch.  A hug.  Some people don't even take the time to appreciate these simple things in life.  They require no money, yet to someone in need, are priceless.  I realize, now, that it wasn't any one thing I did.  It was simply that Daddy appreciated everything I did.  He was really the amazing one.  Such perspective on life is amazing these days when so many people only appreciate gifts that are materialistic.  

So, Daddy....you know what?  You are amazing.   I mean it.  Amazing!  Wish I had told you sooner.

My Daddy...

I mentioned, in my first post, that I have had a very rough year.  Horrible, actually.  I lost my daddy 2 weeks ago, today.  On Thanksgiving day.  This was a particularly awful time of the year to lose him, since he was always my shopping partner on "Black Friday."  That's right....my daddy loved going out on the day after Thanksgiving to catch all the best deals.  Many years, he would sit at the dining room table on Thanksgiving day, looking at all the ads, planning where he wanted to go the next day and what he wanted to buy.  He was a shopper.  Definitely out shopped my mom.  I loved it.  I am very much like my daddy.  I like to be "on the go" and I love shopping.

My daddy had been very sick for a long time....approximately 2 years.  He was diagnosed with lung cancer a few days before Christmas in 2006.  I remember thinking that Christmas that it could be the last one we spent with him.  But he actually almost made it 2 more years.  This Christmas will be hard.  Really hard.   

I am a "daddy's girl" for sure.  From the moment I was born, I feel like I was the apple of his eye.  He was a sweet, sentimental guy.  Not afraid to cry.  Not afraid to hug and kiss.  He always told me how proud he was of me.  He always told me how much he loved me.  He called me pumpkin.  I still feel his presence.  I hear him talking to me.  I miss seeing him.  But, really, I have missed my daddy for more than a year.  Daddy used to call me all the time.  He had gotten really sick this past year, and a lot of my daddy had already died.  He was still there.  All the sweet qualities, but he hadn't been his full self in over a year.  Daddy was so full of life.  He laughed from the belly and loved to laugh.  He loved to pick on me and embarrass me.  He had a contagious laugh.  The last year of illnesses had really taken its toll on him and he was a shell of the man he used to be.

How am I coping?   Pretty well, actually.  Better than my mom, for sure.  I feel bad sometimes, when my mother starts crying and I don't join in.  I am not sure what is going on with me.  I can talk about my daddy and talk past memories and not cry.  I can actually make jokes and such.  Shouldn't I be devastated?  I feel like I shouldn't be able to carry on like I have.  Then, I have a day where I get emotional and it lasts all day, but I have done really well this week.  I sort of feel at peace.  I can't explain it well, but I will try.  I have absolutely NO DOUBT that my daddy knew how much I loved him.  Maybe, more-so than any other person in the world.  I showed him and told him daily.  I saw him daily.  I told him I loved him daily.  So many people have regrets about the things they didn't say or do when they lose a loved one.  My only regret is that he didn't get to walk me down the isle.  But, I know I have his blessing.  So whenever I do walk down the aisle, he'll be there....I just know it.  I don't have any regrets of what I did or didn't say or do.  Maybe this is why I am handling the loss ok.

Then I wonder if the realization hasn't set in yet.  That, maybe one day, it will hit me like a mack truck and I will crumble.  I hope that doesn't happen....only time will tell.  

I feel daddy is at peace now.  I feel joy that he is able to play golf again in heaven.  I am happy for him that he doesn't have to take 20 medications, go for Chemo treatments, struggle for breath, and feel awful all the time.  It makes me happy to think how happy he must be doing all the things that I know he truly missed doing, but wasn't physically able to do.  I am happy that he is with his daddy again and his mother, who he never really knew as a person.  

Do I miss him?  Of course I miss him.  I was at mom and dad's house the other day, and I picked up the bag we brought home from the hospital with Daddy's belongings.  I pulled out his shirt that he had worn to the Dr. the day he got admitted.  I instinctively buried my face in it, hoping to capture a moment of his presence.  I got it.  It smelled like my daddy.  He always smelled so good.  He loved to wear cologne and I knew it would smell like daddy.  I will never wash that shirt.  I hope it always smells like that.  I broke down.  I cried all day long.  Everything upset me all day.  I went back and smelled it again later.  My daddy.  

I am feeling a bit drained, so I will end his for now.  All my love, Daddy! 

-Pumpkin