Four Years Later

Today four years ago my father passed away. The memories of his last day still stay with me. I get now that regardless of how much time has passed, these are the memories that will never leave me or my sisters and mother. I’ve always felt like days like today are the ones that help force me to remember things I try to not think about all year long. Like what he looked like in the hospital bed. How my mom was ultimately put in the shitty situation to say no more. The way I freaked out being in his hospital room- each beep set me off into a ball of nerves and anxiety wondering what the hell was going wrong next. How much he looked like Nana Pearl. How brave my mom was in telling him to let go and that she’d be okay knowing she had me and my sisters to take care of her. How little we knew about what he was going through. How fucked up it was to literally watch him slip away and take his last breaths. How badly I wished Steve had been there. How happy I was for my sisters to have their significant others there. How unbelievably sad it was to walk out of the hospital with my dad’s belongings but without him. Unfortunately, there are endless memories that we experienced that day. And for today, I’m sad.

I’m sad that over the course of the past four years my dad has missed out on my wedding, Meghan’s wedding, one amazing granddaughter (and another grandchild expected any day now), a cross-country move from NYC to Santa Monica, job promotions and changes, all of our successes, the funny stories and jokes that made him laugh to the point of not being able to breathe, family holidays (which let’s face it, were always a little disastrous), endless in-law humor (can you believe he never met Kathy Fast?) and so many other little and big things in between.

I can’t believe that I can’t get him hooked on The Office, 30 Rock or Arrested Development. I hate that he can’t go to Ireland with us in October. I hate that I can’t call him up whenever I want (not that he’d answer the phone but…). I don’t think you ever get used to the fact that you can never ever see or talk to another person again. I know I certainly haven’t gotten used to that yet.

I feel an ache in my heart and a shortness of breath when I think of how short our time together was and how much I truly miss him.

I love you Dad.