
15 years ago tomorrow, my dearest Daddy passed away. August 21, 1995. A day that is still kind of fuzzy, yet I will never forget. Those of you who have lost someone so near and dear will know what I'm talking about.
This year is of particular significance. As I was 15 when Dad died, this year, 2010, marks a point in my life where I have now lived the same number of years without him as I did with him. That seems so crazy, because many memories of him are so fresh in my mind. There are still times where I just want to pick up the phone or send him an email because I see something he would laugh at, or I have a question I KNOW he has the answer to!
Every year as this anniversary approaches, I take the
inevitable inventory of my life. I think "what would Dad think of me and where I am in my life?" Every year is a bit
different; God knows there have been years I am so ashamed of myself and I'm thankful he wasn't there to see me. We've all made mistakes, some bigger than others, some truly life-altering. But each decision we make, for better or worse, weaves together the fabric of our soul and life (not meaning to sound like a cotton commercial...).
This year, though, I think he'd be pretty darn proud of me. I'm at a great place in life. I turned 30 this year (good gravy); I have a fantastic job that I love, where I often feel like I'm making an effort for the world to be a better place; I'm continuing with his love of higher education (working on masters degree #3); I'm in a wonderful and healthy relationship with a fantastic guy, one who I think my father would adore; my days are filled with amazing friends and my tiny family that's left.
Sure, I still have a lot of flaws, some of which are not surprisingly
reminiscent of my own father. Patience is not a virtue I have learned yet, I have a bit of a temper, and I spend too much money. But aside from all that, I'm loving who I am. It's devastating to me that I had to spend the last 15 years of my life becoming a woman I know my father would be proud of, and to not have him here to share that with. But that's the hand we're dealt, right? I know too many of you have the same story...
So, with tears streaming down my face, I think about my father and I miss him more today than I did on August 22, 1995. But I hope that on this day next year, I'm as happy and healthy, if not more, than I am today. Miss you and love you so much, Chip.
XOXOAli
