I really don’t like goodbyes. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about that in a later post, but today I’m positive of the reason that I don’t like goodbyes. My greatest fear is forgetting. I think this fear really surface when I was forced into the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to say.
Today is Memorial Day, which is fitting because today is also my dad’s birthday. My dad was killed almost four years ago and I’m beginning to realize my fear. I hate it. I used to be able to remember exactly what he smelled like and how his voice sounded, I used to be able to see him walk into a room and command the attention of everyone thanks to his black Stetson. I used to be able to hear him jamming out to classic rock at 5 in the morning and I used to see his truck pull into the drive after the sun went down. Now a days I’m starting to forget little pieces of what made him who he is. This makes me more sad than most of you can understand. I want so badly to remember every little detail. I want to be able to convey to my family one day exactly who my dad was and exactly what he was like. I hope that one day they will see enough of him in me and my siblings that they will understand how amazing my dad was. We all miss him so much.
The advice I got from my mom for a day like today was to share a memory and while you are remembering, smile. So, I’m going to fight forgetting, I’m going to fight the worst part of goodbyes and I’m going to smile.
This is my favorite memory of my dad.
When I was a junior in high school our basketball team was playing EB near the end of the season. We needed to win the game in order to finish high in the conference (I don’t remember exactly, but I remember it was a big game). I was nervous and I remember during warm-ups a couple of my teammates pointed out that my dad had arrived, this wasn’t unusual because they always loved spotting him walk through the gym doors in his black cowboy hat (he always looked so classy). Immediately after seeing him my nerves were gone.
The game played out and it was a good game. It went into double overtime and I was one of the only starters that had not fouled out for either team when it neared the end. On the floor for us was myself and 4 underclassmen. I remember calling them into a huddle and telling them they better not mess up…I’m not exactly sure what words I used :). My team and I stepped up in that last minute and pulled it out, the entire gym erupted. It felt like we had just won a state championship.
As we were walking back into the locker room I spotted my dad above me on the balcony. He was crying. After our post game talk with the coach I ran out and found my dad waiting, he was still teary. He gave me the biggest hug and said to me, “I’ve never been so proud, you led with such class.”
The best part of that memory is that when I tell it, I can still remember what it felt like to be in his arms in that moment, I can still remember what it felt like to hear those words.
(Smile.)
Happy Birthday, Daddy. We all miss you and love you so, so much.
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