Unfortunately, my re-opening post today is a sad one. My dad died a week ago today. Not a young man by age (he would have been 92 in December), but a man who had vitality and a zest for life that many never achieve. What I've heard so many times in the past week was how kind he was to people, with a constant smile on his face and, ALWAYS, a ready song in his heart and on his lips. Devoted to my mom, he spent everyday at the nursing home where she spent her final years, staying to give her company even when she didn't even know he was there. He "gave" freely and generously, was a hard worker, and LOVED people.
The values and ideals I hold close to my heart and try to live up to everyday came from the way he lived his life and treated people. He was my "rock". When my first husband died at a young age, Dad was as compassionate, loving and supportive as anyone could be, and helped me through some tough times. Family always came first to him.
In the last few months of his life, as he started to wane, my brother and I struggled to find ways and words to pass the time and help him keep his quality of life. I would come to the health care center where he lived around 5:30 and we would talk, watch the news, and play solitaire. I'll never look at a deck of cards the same way again.
With him gone, there is a void in my day, but more so in my heart. I miss him fiercely yet am comforted by the fact that he no longer has to struggle to breathe, eat pureed food, and be pained by the fact that his memory was leaving him when he couldn't remember things like he had so easily been able to before.
I'll miss you, Dad, more than these words can even begin to say. I love you so very much. In peace, I leave you.