Saturday, June 15, 2013

June 16th

My father was a passionate man.  A man who loved to travel, a man who had a loud, booming laugh, a man who truly loved his kids.  But he was also a man who was very, very troubled.

And on June 16th, 1990, he took his own life.

It was a Saturday.  And it was the Saturday before Father’s Day.

Every now and then, June 16th just so happens to fall ON Father’s Day.  Like this year.  And I hate when that happens – I prefer to compartmentalize the two.  Keep June 16th on one side, as a day to feel an ever-present ache in my bones to have known my father better, an ever-present sadness to have experienced childhood with a dad, an ever-present anger that he abandoned his wife and four kids so selfishly…  And then I’d like to keep Father’s Day as a day to celebrate the most amazing dad I’ve ever known – my husband.  But, I don’t get that luxury this year.  Instead I will have to find a way to let myself swim through a sea of emotions on Sunday, allow myself to feel both sadness for the twenty-three-year-old hole in my heart and happiness for the man who is my daughter’s hero.

And that’s okay, because life is kinda complicated like that.  A constant ebb and flow.

So Sunday will be tough.  But I will allow myself to dip down to the lows and reach up to the highs.  And I will thank God for exactly where I am and who I am today.  Though the path to get here has been hard to understand sometimes, I will forever be grateful for the beautiful life that I live. 

June 16th, 1990, was a day full of endings.  But June 16th, 2013, can be a day full of new, a day full of beginnings – all because of the man who taught me what it means to love unconditionally.  My husband, my very best friend, my rock – a man who I don’t do enough for, a man I owe my happiness to, a man with the purest and kindest heart.

And, most importantly, the most incredible dad I have ever known.

Happy Father’s Day, T.  Though no one will ever be able to erase the scars left from that fateful Saturday night twenty-three years ago, you have managed to prove to me that I can let go and live and love and never worry about being abandoned.  I love you.  Cameron adores you.  And we are both so lucky to be yours.  YAWILFT.

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