Our Fathers

We are our Fathers garden,
We are his legacy.

- From Our Father Kept A Garden, Anonymous

I cherish my friends, they mean the world to me and I do my best to nourish them in the all the ways possible. Last week I met with one of them, I had not seen her in quite some time and recently found out that her Father passed away in August. She adored her Father and his sudden passing left her with a grief and sadness that lingers. 

 My Father died almost ten years ago this November and while I have accepted the reality of his death, my heart still hurts as if he died yesterday.  My eyes fill up as I write this,  again reminding me that the pain is still there and time has not healed this particular wound.

As I listened to my friend describe the first few months without her Father I could empathize. The first holidays, birthdays, seasons are extremely challenging. Everyone keeps telling her that once the year mark of his death arrives, it will be easier. 

Time will heal her wound is what everyone tells her.  I didn't want to tell her that it wasn't true. I didn't want to tell her that the pain she feels as well as the loss with remain with her, not buried deep down but very near  to the surface.  The passing of time has not helped me. In fact, the longer I live without my Father, the more I miss him. 

I crave his voice, his laughter, his comforting and gentle manner. He always made everything seem ok, no matter what the challenge was. He was "go to" person. 

He had a wonderful ability to make everyone feel good and happy. He was the first one to call in the morning on every holiday or special event. His voice, always filled with enthusiasm and enjoyment. My Father loved his life, his professiona as a Doctor and his family, we were his treasure and we knew it.  His gift of happiness and generosity touched many hearts and I knew I was extraordinarily blessed, lucky,  and was proud to have him as my Father. 

I remember in Fifth grade there was a career day in which our parents would come in and talk about their jobs. Most of the kids were horrified that a family member would be spending an hour in the classroom with them. Not me, I was so excited that my Father was coming in to talk about his profession as a Radiologist. I gleamed as I knew his presentation would be interested and fun and I was correct. He attracted the fifth grade audience with grace and warmth as he did most people. He had a wonderful gift of connecting with all types of people, young and old, rich or poor. He was kind to everyone.

I enjoyed the time spent with my sweet friend, I didn't tell her that the year mark would not erase her pain. I smiled as this is a journey she must face herself and perhaps it will be different for her.  Her connection to her father was similar to mine so I have a good idea of what this journey will hold for her. 

She will manage, she will be fine and she will accept that he is gone. It will never be easy, she will always miss him and not a day will go by in which she doesn't think of him. I told her to look for him in the faces of her children, he is there and in fact he is all around her.

 I feel the love of my father everywhere I turn. He was an amazing person and Father. He was a gift to everyone, and his time on Earth provided me with love, confidence and a wonderful example of how to live my life. 

 My sweet Monica- - time does not heal all wounds but healing can take place in the form of being grateful for the man who helped mold you into the beautiful, strong and intelligent woman that you are today. That is the gift your father gave to you, how lucky we both have been. xo