One Year later

Today is the day.  One year ago, the universe decided that it was time.  Whatever, whoever,  this higher power is that reigns over us declared May 29, 2011 as my fathers last day to be here in his body, on Earth.  

This deciding entity had moved to have him be ill, suffer, and have disease long before that (or not really all that long at all actually, as he was only diagnosed 15 months prior to his passing), as the ALS and FTD that took over his body had decisive plans. 

This day changed the course of reality.  For him, for our family, for every person and life that my father touched while here, and those he hadn't yet had the chance to.  I still hate everything about this situation.  I am angry, frustrated, sickened, heart broken and sad.  I am forever changed.  My life is forever different.  

And God dammit it is hard.

Every. Single. Day. 

I don't see that changing any time soon.  The constant reminders will always be around; fathers are everywhere, after all, and each time I witness a tender interaction between dad and daughter, a hug shared between son and his senior...I get the "pang".

The pang of pain in my heart that I won't ever get those opportunities again.  The pang of guilt that I hadn't cherished ALL OF THEM, when I had the chance.  

The pangs of regret for not saying what I felt, acting how I wanted too, spending the time that I should have...

What does get me by is memory.  Recalling all the greatness that my father was, the happy moments, the puns, the stern yet loving manner in which he raised us girls.  For the first few months after his passing, it was hard to remember "healthy dad".  He had been ill with the dementia and ALS for only a short time, but those were the recollections that were in the forefront of my mind; both the good and the bad; the goofy smile he always had on his face, the clumsy way he went about daily tasks, the tender look in his eye when I knew he was non-verbally thanking my mother for all she did for him...

Now I try to remember my father the way he would have wanted me to.  I recall the strong, determined, athletic man that he was, with quick as a whip wit.  I remember the softball coach in him, the teacher, the hobby farmer, the traveler, the western movie fan in him.  The grandfather, the daddy, the husband, friend, and son in him.  I remember him as him.

A year is a long time, and not a long time.  A lot has changed, a lot has stayed the same.  Only my dad and I know what has really gone on in my world...as I know he is an angel, with me all the time, my conscience, my motivation, my source of strength.  At his funeral there were many folk who told me of how proud my father had always been of me.  I hope he would continue to say the same now and in the future, as I work to better myself, my life, our world.

One year.  And it still hurts so bad.  

I love you dad, I miss you dad. XOXO Forever.