Dear Dad

A letter I am sending out into the universe

Oscar and Grandma Ruth (Dad’s biological parents), Mom and Dad (summer 2006-he died in August)

Dad, it has been almost twenty years since you left this physical world, much too early at 67. My heart broke as your body slowly and then quickly changed until it decided to stop altogether. My grieving began a year before you died; I felt in my bones that there would be no other outcome than succumbing to that horrible disease.

I remember so vividly the weight of helplessness that hovered aimlessly around in my head, ever present as I went about my daily life. Unintentionally and mindlessly, my behavior was to carry that stiff upper lip while in public and most of the time in private. Denial.

The day after you died in early August 2006, I sat in my office at the college and cried a full-on emotional release. The fall semester had not started, so no one was around to catch me in this vulnerable state. Not that I cared, but my survival instincts needed me to be strong whether I felt like it or not.

I never let on the intense emotional pain I had gone through before and after your death, not wanting to burden you or anyone else — that apple does not fall far from the tree. Besides, you had end-of-life concerns to deal with, and I couldn’t fathom what you must have been going through, seeing your life flash before your eyes. Were you reminiscing about your childhood on the farm…