10 Years
It is so hard for me to grasp the fact that I have been without a father for 10 years. My father died on Oct. 10th 1996 around lunch time that day. My parents divorced by the time I was 3. He lived in Texas most of my childhood/teen years. I honestly don’t remember him being there much except for some during the school summer vacation & Christmas. As crazy as this sounds, I thank God for the cancer. I would not have really known him or built a bond without that year of struggle. I was away at college when I found out Dad had cancer. He came to visit me around October & I knew something wasn’t quite right. I think deep down he knew something was wrong, but he had not even had the diagnosis yet. He had a growth on his neck that was rather strange that he was going to “have checked”. A day or 2 before Thanksgiving he called & told me that I needed to come home immediately. What I did not know is that he was already in the hospital. I found out on Thanksgiving day in 1995 that my father had cancer. He asked me to sit in his lap when he told me through tears that he had been told he only had a matter of months left to live, but that he was going to fight. I had NEVER seen my father cry until that moment. Nor had I sat in his lap. Dad lived until October the following year. The cancer battle lasted almost 11 months. I was there for the first chemo treatement. I was there for the anger. I was there for the extreme sickness, the tumors, the loss of vision in one eye, the loss of mobility. I drove him to & from treatments 4 to 5 days a week. I cleaned up after his sickness. I watched him roll around on the floor in pain & agony. My father was a very strict baptist & never watched t.v. He bought a t.v. & I remember laying on the couch (he had a sectional sofa & I would lay on one end & he would lay on the other) watching Touched by an Angel & Walker Texas Ranger. Through all of this we grew closer & I learned so many things about my father. He fought so hard. One statement he made one day sticks out in my mind. “God doesn’t have to prove anything to anybody by healing me from cancer. He doesn’t have to dig himself out of a hole. My healing may be death & being with him.” Someones true character is revealed in their death. I had a year to see his character revealed. People I had never met would bring over food & pray over him. Over & over people stating how Dad had been there for them during their time of need & they wanted to return the favor of kindness. In my Dad’s most desperate moments he clung to Christ. He said, “Bottom line, all that matters is that JESUS SAVES!” After almost a year of fight, Dad died at home surrounded by family. I was holding his hand when he took his last breath. That is a moment I will never forget. I felt his spirit leave this earth.
I have missed my Dad for so many of the big events in my life. My wedding, the birth of my 2 little girls. But I miss him so much more in the little things. I miss him when my car breaks down. I miss him when I need that fatherly advice. Just the fact the option to talk to him has been taken away from me has ripped my heart out so many times over the years. I am thankful that where father is there is no more pain & no more suffering, but I still miss him. 10 years later it is just as hard to think about it all.
Hey sis! I miss him too! I sometimes wish that I was here more and able to be with him when he need us the most. I know he is around us… watching his granddaughters grow. I can’t believe it has been 10 years already. It seems like just yesterday. I can still here him humming to the music in the car… or tapping his fingers on the steering wheel! Remember that?
I love you sissy… and I miss you so much. I pray God is with you today and gives you a little hug from Dad.
I miss him so much. I’m looking so forward to seeing him again soon.
lots of love!
miranda - my heart hurts and rejoices for you - the hurt of watching someone you love and cherish go through something so hard and painful and you having to be the strong one for them is a struggle but I rejoice that he knew our father in heaven and he realized that his healing ultimatly was in him — no matter if it were here with us or there with him… that is true peace and true joy to know that it only gets better and the hardest part for us is the years we are seperated until we meet up again… “what a day of rejoicing that will — when we all get to heaven — WE WILL SING AND SHOUT THE VICTORY!!!”
Thanks for sharing your heart and story — my heart is full… love ya girl…
Miranda,
Hey! Thanks for the post about your father. I guess I didn’t know or remember that he’d passed away.
Your post helped me understand a lot more about where you’re coming from and who you are.
I’ve been thinking about my Dad a lot too lately. I miss him for all the same reasons you miss yours, though his death was sudden and unexpected.
I try to do things the way he would do them on many levels. I wish he and my Mom could’ve been here when Jadyn entered the world, but they weren’t. I’m hoping I can spare Jadyn at least some of that same absence in her life.
We think of you and Mr. B often and we’re glad you still consider us friends though we are many miles apart.
Please keep in touch!
Paul
HI Miranda!
Teresa gave me your blog address and I thought I would give it a try. I truly enjoyed getting to read the stories about the girls. I’ve missed so much. Yes, time does just fly by. I enjoyed reading the story about your Dad also. I miss him too, some days more than others. There are so many things that I wish he was here for. Mom still misses him and Danny not being around more, makes it harder for her. I am so grateful to know that you learned from his illness, as we all did, things that I do not believe we would be living out right now if this had not been a part of our lives. Some times it doesn’t seem that life is fair-but we’ll understand it by and by. There will be a glorious reunion one day!
Keep writing, I’ll keep reading! Hey I enjoy those quiet cups of coffee ever chance I get, especially with a lot of French Vanilla Cream!
Love ya, Aunt Wanda