It has been 9 months since he died, but my fingers still itch to call every night at 6 and first thing every morning. I miss the strong, confident man he once was, the father who could and did everything and I also miss the needy, dependent man he became. He was my dad and I loved him so much, as much as he loved me.
There are no words to describe the impact a father (or mother) has on a child. Most children think of their father as being the best father and I know my dad was one of them. He was always around when I needed him, from the time I was a little girl until the age I was when he got sick. I knew he was gone when he stopped telling me to call him when I got home or when he stopped telling me to stay home whenever the weather was bad.
I miss the crazy phone calls consisting of weather reports and what he ate (which was always the same thing.) I miss preparing his favorite meal-meatballs. I miss him but I am happy he is spending this Father's day with my mom, the love of his life. He had no quality of life at the end. I pray there is quality in death.