Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

So much has happened that I want to tell you. It has been 389 days since you left this world which is one giant mind boggle because some days I feel like you are still here. I call you sometimes, expecting that you will be there to pick up and it's not until I get sent to voicemail that reality kicks in, and I know you are not there to answer. That's one of the hardest adjustments to the whole dead dad thing. So many of our conversations and memories that I look back at took place on the phone at random hours of the day. You were the person I would call when anything happened to me, whether it be positive or not. Not having that anymore makes me cringe. Sometimes, when I'm not in public, I do pretend to call you though. I talk to you, and I really hope you are out there listening because if not I would just feel like a crazy person!

And then there are times when I feel like you're doing the same to me. You've been in some of my dreams and I can't help but feel you are trying to tell me something. A wise woman once told me "If you are aware that they are passed in the dream then it is a visit, if you are unaware however, it is just a memory." When I wake up in the morning I feel whole again, like the part of me that was missing is finally back in place. You and mom made me who I am today; you accepted all of my weirdness and loved me for who I was. I was not only myself with you, I was my best self with you. You taught me so many things that I'm grateful for; cooking, humor, and generosity are just some examples.

There is one memory I always look back on. We were driving around Vermont for my parents weekend freshman year in the G Wagon. The leaves were changing, Jimmy Buffet was on the radio, and the weather was perfect. You wouldn't let me put on the GPS because "you're always right and never get lost." We ended up in Stowe for brunch (our favorite meal) at McCarthy's Diner, you had your Eggs Benedict and I had my omelet. I didn't know it at the time, but that was our last brunch together. As we hit the road again we drove past a random ski lift that was running. You pulled over, got out of the car, and started walking over to it. I thought you were crazy but I followed you anyways... (This was usually the case whenever we would go out in public). We rode up the mountain in silence, sitting side by side admiring the view. I didn't want to go to school in Vermont, but you made me look at schools here anyway, and I'm so glad you did. Because if it weren't for you pushing me,  we never would have shared this moment. When I meditate and try to find my happy place I always end up back on that chair lift, except this time it's not only with my dad, it's with my guardian angel.

I miss you like crazy Dad, but I'm doing okay. Aj is taking over as the protective man in my life and I must say, he's doing a very good job! Mom's trudging through life being the superstar that she is. Seriously though, I don't know how she does it. Even though none of us are the same as we were when you were here, I can promise you this... You will never be forgotten. You have changed all of us. You came so far in your life, from your shitty childhood to the chef, car enthusiast, watch collector, goof-ball, friend, husband, and father that we all love so much. I look at your strength and know that no matter how hard my day may seem, knowing the journey you went through to where you ended up inspires me to push through it. Thank you for continuing to be my rock, and for always being there when I need a shoulder squeeze.

Love you,
Your Daughter
Mippington

8.30.15

Let me start off by saying that this is officially my tenth attempt at writing this post, and even now I don't know if it's perfect, or if it will even make sense for that matter.

Last Sunday, August 30, was officially the one year mark of my father's death. It was also the day I turned 21, as well as the day I moved into my Junior year of college. All of these would be emotional mile markers in one way or another, but when you combine them they all change meaning. In fact, I had no emotion the whole day. I couldn't push myself to be happy, it felt forced and inappropriate. But I also wasn't sad, I didn't cry once. I cry all the time at the littlest of things, so how come on what should have been the most emotional day of my life I couldn't get myself to cry? It felt like the right thing to do, but I couldn't even do that right.

I also realize that to all of you as readers, I sound kind of annoying and like I'm complaining; that is not the purpose of this post at all. In all honesty, I asked my dad to die on my birthday. As I've mentioned before, I think the most important days on the souls journey is the day that we enter this life and the day that we move onto the next one, and I am so grateful to share that with my dad. I just figured after a year I would have figured out what I would have wanted to do to commemorate that. Then the day arrives and my mind went blank. 

You know who I felt sorry for? My friends. They had no idea how to react towards the day. I could tell that they were all looking at me funny, and trying to filter everything, afraid that they might say something to upset me. And then, on top of that, my twisted humor started to kick in. For instance I would say, "Will one of you grab my phone charger, my dad is dead and it's my birthday." or "Hey mom, please don't die today, I already lost one parent on my birthday." I know, I know, it's really messed up but it was the only way I could acknowledge what was really going on. 

And then, 8:30pm rolls around. I am in my friends apartment listening to music when the one and only Wildflowers, by Tom Petty starts playing. For those of you that don't know, my dad and I decided my freshman year when we were on one of our drives that this was the song we were going to dance to at my wedding one day. I teared up a little bit, not because I was sad or anything, but because I think it was exactly what I had been waiting for all day. I didn't know if this was some sign that he was there with me, or if it was just a song that would trigger my emotions. But, sitting around the living room with my friends in silence, listening to the lyrics, and remembering a certain car ride I had with my dad was the best way I could have imagined to spend my birthday.