I remember when my dad would look at me. He'd have a twinkle in his eye. I knew that I was his everything, that he was so proud of me, and that I meant the world to him. I never told him how much I looked up to him. I never told him how much I liked our talks about life issues, goals, family history, pretty much everything. I remember when he and I would make fun of my mom and laugh at our own jokes that only we understood. I remember the music he'd play at home while he prepared an amazing meal out of a seemingly bare fridge and pantry. He was always able to make something out of nothing. Literally. He was a master woodworker, a true Mr. Fix-it, and I loved that about him. Tomorrow is my 4th Father's Day without my dad. It seams surreal. I kind of forget his voice. I have less and less moments that I can recall his exact words, or the look on his face. I can barely taste my favorite meal he would make me. It's just been so long. I used to experience a lot of anxiety leading up to an anniversary, his birthday or a holiday. I've learned that the "actual" day, like Father's Day, isn't nearly as bad as how I play up all the memories leading up to it. This year is different. This year I've thought more about the fact that I haven't been able to make Calvin a daddy in the past five years. I've thought about this more than I have felt the loss of my father. Calvin has wanted to be a father since he was 19 years old (at least that's what he's told me). He's waited a long time. Too long. I see him with his niece and nephew. I see him with children in our lives and he's amazing. He is loving, confident, hysterical and has that same glimmer in his eye I used to see in my own dad. Never mind the fact that he gags changing the occasional diaper (seriously), or that he is slow to change a wiggly baby. He'll learn. We both will.
Sometimes I doubt my role as his wife. I basque in the loss of "what could be" and feel less than a woman, less than a wife to not have given him a child. I know he doesn't blame me. I can't point blame either. There's nowhere to point a finger. I have visions of our future and long for children to be in that picture. Oh how I wish I had some absolute control over this situation; our lives would be very different.
A date on the calendar, June 16, 2012, brings up all these feelings. "It's only a date" I tell myself. I know that true fathers (in all sense of the word) are father's everyday and are loved by their children everyday...not just one day on a calendar. Why then does it mean so much? Why then do I think of my friends who have lost their fathers? Why do I look over at Cal while I type this and feel a knot in my throat? I want Cal to be a daddy...more than anything.
Happy father's day to my Pops, the best father-in-law a girl could ever hope for. I love you.
Happy father's day in Heaven, dad. Miss you to the moon and back.
