ss_blog_claim=cd46ef178142ba5c793d6628c487d5ef The Stuff I Think: Happy Birthday, Curley!!

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Happy Birthday, Curley!!

**I found this in my drafts today.....I wrote it on my Daddy's 57th birthday, which was June 15, 2009....so it's pretty old, and I'm not sure why I never posted it, but, for the most part, it's still relevant**


Most anyone who reads this knows me well enough to know that I was a "Daddy's Girl" and that my daddy was abruptly taken away from me on November 4, 1995, when I was only 16 years old. But, what you may or may not know is that today would have been his 57th birthday. It's hard to imagine my father knocking on 60's door, but I really wish I could. I wish I could have Alyssa bake him a special "Happy Birthday Grandpa" cake and have her to sing to him before she gave him the Harley t-shirt she picked out all by herself, because anyone who knew my dad knows that that would be EXACTLY what he wanted!! But, life had other plans for me and my daughter. We won't get to wish him the typical "Happy Birthday", because, where he is, he'll never get any older. Regardless of how many times we pass June 15, Curley will always be 43 years old.

A little background--my parents met in 1975 and got married June 4, 1977. Since my mother passed away when I was 10, I don't remember much about their relationship, firsthand, but I do know the mess my father was after she was gone. He managed to pull it together to the point that his children didn't readily recognize his pain, but now that I'm an adult and can think back and analyze things in a way I was incapable of as a child, I can see that he never fully got over her. It was the kind of love that people search for. Another thing that anyone who knew my daddy could tell you is that, no matter where life took him after her death, he was never the same person and he always longed for her.

I always seem to dwell on what I'm missing by not having him in my life any longer. It's never dawned on me, until right now, that it's not all about me. Granted, my father didn't take his own life--he wouldn't have done that--and I know he didn't WANT to die. He loved me and he loved my sister with a fierceness that I only hope I can mirror for my own daughter. I'm grateful to have been loved like that when there are so many uncaring fathers out there. So, am I being selfish to wish he were here? Shouldn't I be happy that he was reunited with my mother and has been living in a better place for the past 13 1/2 years?

I often say (on those silly surveys and what-have-you) that if I could bring anyone back from the dead, it would be my father...but would that be fair to him? Would he want to be resurrected into this life where he can return to feeling the pain of my mother's loss? I highly doubt it. It's not that the love of his two daughters and granddaughter wouldn't be enough--I believe it would be. But, we're old enough now to take care of ourselves and likely wouldn't need him as much as we had, anyway. So, he would, once again, be lost and racked with grief. I'm not 100% sure I'd do that to him, even if I could...but, since I can't, it's a moot point anyway, right?

There are a million things that I wish I could say to him and a million things I wish he had been here to see. I'm still brought to tears whenever it hits me that I'll never see him on this earth again. I'll never hear the sound of his Harley pulling up in the driveway. I'll never hear him fuss at me because my room is a wreck. I'll never hear him joke about how I'm "not allowed to date until I'm married". We'll never go out to eat Mexican food again and he'll never go with me to shop for new clothes. He never got to teach me how to change the oil in my car or change a flat tire. Those were things on his "to-do" list that he left behind.

I have very little more than pictures to remind me of him. I can't remember his voice anymore or the way he smelled after he'd been out in his shop, working on his Harley. I remember his favorite songs and I remember amusing anecdotes, but I can't remember what he sounded like when he laughed at them. I remember how, even when I was a teenager, he would hold my hand as we walked into a store or wherever and say that they "still fit". I didn't really get it until I had my own daughter to hold hands with. I think if I'd known he was going to leave me, I would have taken pictures of his hands, so at least I could remember them. I bet they'd "still fit".

My father was truly my best friend and I think about him every day. I miss him every day that I breathe and, as long as I live, no matter where I am or who comes in and goes, he will ALWAYS be the most important man I've ever had in my life.

Daddy on Delilah

I love you, Daddy...I hope you have a Happy Birthday...say Hi to Mama for me! :)

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