I wrote about my dad for Father’s Day. It was my tribute to him and my apology because I didn’t get cards in the mail, yet again.Of course, I called him and spoke with him on Father’s Day. He claims to understand. But I hear the sadness in his voice and feel bad… and while I’ve said this before, I’m saying it publicly, I need to do better.
Dad read my Father’s Day post and enjoyed it. That is something.
The funny things is, he doesn’t remember the day I wrote about. We went to lunch a number of times and would hang out at the mall. But that specific day, the one that is etched in my memory and meant so much to me, is not one he remembers.
He told me that his memory isn’t what it used to be. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem is that he didn’t know how I felt. And he should have. It might have been a small moment in life. but it represents my childhood. We may have had our problems (and believe me there were TONS of them), but I never felt unloved. My dad was there for all the important things (when I was dumped by a guy, when was playing volleyball or softball, when I needed him) even though he traveled a lot. I was important. I was important enough for him to come to see my games, in his suit, from the airport.
And Dad, there were other moments – when Lady scratched you in the eye and you came to my game after the hospital, after I got in a fight at school and when you had mom take me to buy a navy blue blazer because everyone was wearing them at school and I didn’t have one…
I’m sorry that you didn’t know. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I’m glad that I have the chance to fix that. Thank you for being there and caring enough to fight with me (still). I love you.
Don’t wait to let those important people in your life know how important they are to you. I wonder if they will be surprised about what you remember and felt was important.