Celebrating life-twenty years removed

This day has weighed heavily upon my heart for quite some time now.  You see, today marks the twentieth anniversary of my father's passing.  I've run the gammet of emotions over the past several months--I've felftfor my dad whose life was taken too soon; I've felt for his family who was left to grieve his passing, and I've had my own self-indulged pity party at my dad's expense because there's so much I wanted to share with him. 

I remember the day he died like it was yesterday--my mom knocking on my door, tears streaming down her cheeks after being notified that she needed to get to the hospital "right now," me holding Courtney when Mom stormed into my apartment to tell me what had transpired, and the utter shock I felt when she told me what had happened.  I remember driving as fast as my mom's car would go all the way to the hospital, and finally the long drive to Nashville, Tennesse to tell my little brother that our dad was gone.

I remember diving into the abyss for quite some time, not realizing how I was affecting my family.  How I attempted to drink my sorrow away.  I remember how excited my oldest daughter would get at the sight of my dad--she was only five months old when he left this world.  I wish I could count the tears I shed over the years due to his passing and somehow explain the remorse I felt about our last discussion being an argument and not being able to tell him I loved him.  And even though I know he loved his boys more than life itself, somehow I always felt responsible for his untimely death--but why I felt this way I can't explain.

So today, on the twentieth year of his death, I thought about all the ways I would honor his passing.  I find myself in northern Florida, traveling on business--and I thought I would buy a rose and toss it into the Atlantic in rememberance of him--but then I thought about how frivolous that would be to him.

As I gathered myself and recalled how much Pops enjoyed life, I elected to celebrate life like he lived it; I decided to simply smile and laugh.  I thought about how much he liked being around people and how he fed off their energy and decided to do the same.  So today I simply walked around St. Augustine, Florida, taking in the sights and smells of one of my favorite towns.  And today I decided to just stop and talk to folks along the way.  I met a lady, a Cuban-American who had fled Cuba in the late 60's and who subsequently opened a cigar and wine shop, ironically about twnety years ago.  She is so full of energy and loves talking to her customers and talking about life when she was a child in her native land.  She speaks of the greatness of our country and the hopes that her homeland will one day be a reflection of the United States.  I thought about how much my dad would have liked talking to her, and even though he had a tough exterior, he was really a big ole teddy bear at heart.  He would have enjoyed speaking with her as I did.

So Dad, I miss you and I love you.  I wish you were here to see how well your grand daughters turned out.  Courtney is independent and headstrong like you, but she has a heart of gold and wants to do the right thing, even though she makes a lot of the mistakes I made along the way.

I wish you could have held Cassidy because she has the heart of a saint and that tempered personality you always put forth.  She has a way of looking at the world kind of like you did.

And I wish you were here to see Jeff--he's quite the man and father.

I wish you were here to see Mom--she's so happy, but I know she misses you so much.

And I wish you were here for me just to tell you I love you....because I always did.... and still do.