All in Messages to Dad
I'm here and haven't forgotten about you
Today my Dad would have been 59. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him. With the start of the Boston Bruins playoff push, it's hard to not think about him even more. Miss ya Pops.
I'm Catholic, but not a practicing one per se. I believe in God and all that, mostly because to think that there's nothing else past life is quite depressing.
For those of you who read my blog, you know that my Dad passed over a year and a half ago. It's been rough. But since he's been gone, I've experienced things that are way more than coincidences.
I've been told I should write a book about how I've used social media and writing to cope with the loss of my father at the age of 56. He was gone too soon and unexpectedly. It rocked our family to the core and is still fresh a year and a half later. Here's what I have written so far...
Losing My Dad: One Year Later
A year ago this week, I lost my father unexpectedly.
It's been a rough road since then. I think about him every day and miss him more and more.
Things won't be the same. They will just be different.
Miss you Dad.
Messages to Dad: The Working Title, "In My Life"
I've been told by a few folks that the stuff I've been writing you should be compiled and put into a book. At first, I wasn't sure. I thought most of the stuff was personal, despite being shared publicly.
I've been writing to you here, Tweeting and managing the Facebook page as a way to cope with losing you unexpectedly. It's helped. A lot.
Hey Dad, been a while. Haven't written to you here in a bit. Thought it was time to check in.
I read "The Road" and it reminded me a lot about you.
Hey pops, reeled in a couple of stripers yesterday and talked to Uncle Louie before we set off for the day. Thought of you the entire time I was out there. "Fish on"...was the saying of the day.
I remember when you'd wake Michael and I up to go to Concord to pluck some large mouth of the pond. We'd hit Pemberton Fruit Market for a couple large subs; filled the cooler with drinks (and beers for you); hit Roaches for some fresh bait; and, load up the car and hit the road pre-dawn style.
Hey dad, been a while. I hope you are well wherever you are. It's been nearly four months since you passed and it's not getting any easier. In fact, with each day, the pain is pretty unbearable at times. The loss is equal to a thousand yard, gaping hole in the earth caused by an unexpected meteor.
We celebrated your birthday. We had a First Communion. We had preschool graduation. We've celebrated some many things since you've passed and with each occasion, there was a sense of loss that was heavy on everyone's hearts.
Well, tomorrow is Father's Day. It's the first without you and to be brutally honest, it fucking sucks. Sorry for the crass words, but there's really no other way to describe it.