Last month, on the 21st was the anniversary of the day my Dad graduated to Heaven. I don’t know of any better way to describe our relationship, when he died, than to say that I was a Daddy’s Girl. Really, though, that doesn’t even come close to describing how it was.
It hadn’t always been like that; for most of my life he’d been self-medicating as best he could, which caused a great strain on our relationship, to say the least. That pain affected every area of my life, and still does sometimes, even after so many years of my own recovery.
Maybe that’s why it was so much sweeter when he got clean & sober and we began to get to know one another. It was just a little over a year after he got into recovery that I figured out that “maybe drinking/drugging ISN’T the answer, after all!”
So, since I didn’t mention the day on the other Social Media outlets, I wanted to commemorate it here. Here are 3 things Dad gave me, that I wouldn’t give back, even if I could:
- A wonderfully warped sense of humor. No one has ever “got” my humor like Dad did, and that’s probably where I learned it in the first place.
Sure, I’ve met a few interesting individuals who have come close, and my brother and I have had some hysterical laughs, to be sure, but we don’t really interact enough to know if our viewpoint on All Things Funny is that much the same.
- A faith in the Creator, and some knowledge of The Word. He was the only person I’ve ever known, personally, that read the Bible through, cover to cover (even the LONG boring lists and things) every year for the last decade or more of his life. When he broke loose of the LAW and grabbed ahold of the SPIRIT, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known.
- Addiction, depression, and the tools to combat and overcome them, along with whatever other unseen illnesses we may have had handed down through our relatives. My Dad found recovery in the Rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous just 7 years before he died. I am positive that he would say that they were the most fulfilling years of his life. He made a great impact on the small AA community of which he was a fixture during that time, and it blessed my heart every time I walked into a meeting and everyone knew me as “Roger’s Daughter”.
Because I’m at the library and don’t want to get myself all weepy, I’ll stop there. People will say what they want, and I know my memories and/or stories I hear from/about him might be different than others, but they’re mine.
My Dad, was for a long time, a go-getter. He broke records in salesmanship when he was a younger man. He worked hard, and he played hard. He was, I suppose, the kind of guy that you either loved him or hated him. For a while, I hated him. Thank God, he found a new way of living and made amends both verbally and with his life, so that when he died, he was my best friend.
Darn it, I didn’t want to cry.
I love you, Dad. I will miss you until I see you again.Thanks for the laughs.
Posted from my cabin in the mountains.