In Memory of My Father: 8 Years After His Death

Yesterday was officially 8 years to the day that it's been since I buried my dad. It just doesn't seem like it’s been that long. I handled this past week good because I try to avoid looking at the calendar this time of year if I possibly can. The last 2 weeks in February I tend to never know the date. That way I avoid the painful memories and won't be aware of some of the bad day's that plagued my February of 2004.

It still can be hard, but Father's Day's & his birthday are harder--probably because they happened every year instead of only one dreaded year. I always remember the last father’s day I had with my dad.   At least remembering the good times is easy when you had a great Dad, like mine!!!

In Memory of my Father, below I’m going to Publish a letter that I emailed a friend a few months ago, when her father was dying. She had emailed me and asked "how my Dad died & how old I was?" My response was written freestyle & quick, with no editing done. It was my free thoughts at the time, so to edit it now would censor the memory. But, it always brings memories & tears to my eyes. Therefore, I thought I would share it.

Here is what I wrote... I Love & Miss You Daddy!!!...

I think I was 24. Long & emotional story... at first he just started coughing, and then I cud tell somethen was wrong....then like 6 paramedics came at like 3 in the morning and I was riding in the front of ambulance as they was in the back pounding on his chest...

I said  to the driver: 'What does that mean??' I was in denial

Then they rushed him into a a room and pulled me into a private room... I shuda known somethen was wrong, so many signs.... they wouldn't even take him to they preferred hospital, they had to take him to the closest.

I was sitting in a small private room just waiting an shortly later, this tiny female doctor came in & started talking....I wouldn't even let her finish...

I just interrupted her & I knew... I said ' Is he dead' & she said 'yes'..... I started wailing so loud, u cud probably hear me in Lebanon.

There was a phone next to me & called my mom. She said she wakled into the kitchen, so not to wake up Ernest because she didn't know why I was callin @ 3am. And, Ernest said he could hear me crying and screaming over the phone all the way in the bedroom...

It was hard... I was a zombie for a few days

We had the viewing in Nashville & then Me, Mom & Ernest flew to New York to bury him where he was from....

My Dad's Italian Catholic family In Long Island are Character's....

It was like a Journey to the Sopranos...LOL

But, it gets better & now I mostly think of happy memories!!! I do love him & father's day is hard because i remember my last fathers day with him vividly.

I was an only child & he spoiled me rotten! He would do anything for me. I was Daddy's little girl!!!

 But, I know he looks down on me every day & smiles. I remember his smile. My Dad was a religious man... a lot more than me.

The night before he died... he ironically did something that I don't ever remember him doing with me.... he pulled out a book that had the Lord's Prayer.. & read it with me... we prayed together the night before he died...

I honestly can't say I remember Dad teaching me the Lord's Prayer before the night he died, he just ironically did on that night.
I wonder if unconsciously he was aware of what would happen???

                        I Love & Miss You Daddy!!!