A page from my journal.
Yes, it’s Father’s Day. And I wonder what that means to my daughter
She was in treatment for the second time the day she received the news that her grampa had passed away. It was March 19, 2014. I was able to pick her up from treatment and bring her to the service. Returning her afterwards to finish the program.
She relapsed the day she got out. Enter heroin.
Her biological father passed away when she was 6 yo. He had a fatal seizure brought on by alcohol withdrawal. He was in his early 30’s when he died. She barely knew him, yet she reminds me of him in many good ways.
I’ll never forget the moment I had to sit her down and give her the news. I thought her tears would never end.
And to this day, I don’t think she’s truly been able to grieve or talk about the loss of her father or her “gramps”. At least not to me.
I’m thinking of my girl today with my whole heart. I’m wishing her so much peace and love, as well as to you who is reading this.
To all the fathers out there, present and past. And to the moms everywhere who had to be both the mom and dad.
Happy Father’s Day.
And to my dad and my grampas, I say I love you. I celebrate and remember you with great admiration and pride. Remembering the good times.
My daughter’s father and his ability to make people laugh. His silliness and his jovial spirit. His love for his family and the desire he had to be the kind of dad he’d always wanted for himself. His big brown eyes and tender heart. Gone too soon.
My own dad and his celebration of life through family traditions, sweet gestures, games, music, and cooking. And his commitment to working hard to protect and care for his family. His warm hugs and the sound of his voice when he called his girls kiddo. His ability to make you feel special just to be seen and heard by him. With tears, I honor you, dad. I miss you daily and am hugging you from afar.
On this Father’s Day.