Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Fifteen years without you

16 Comments

Father’s Day has rolled around again, the fifteenth one without you.

I don’t have any new photos of you to share. I wish I did. I wish I could just snap a few the next time I’m down in Alabama. Photos of you laughing like you used to. Or reading the paper. Or sound asleep on the sofa after a day out on the lake.

Photos of you building something, or fixing something. You used to build stuff for us all the time and you could fix anything.

I wish I could take a picture of you sitting in the back of the church during Mom’s evening organ practice, timing the pieces she planned to play at the next Sunday’s service, letting her know when you thought it would be cool if she played a bit louder.

And I’d love to snap another memory of all of us out in the boat, you driving while one of us skied behind, you grinning. Us too.

Or climbing Smith Mountain and then the fire tour. You were seventy-five and still raring to go all the time. No mountain was too tall for you, no fire tower had too many steps.

I wish I could spend another holiday with you, the family favorites on the dinner table, us all sitting around the table talking and laughing long after the meal was over.

I wish.

But all the wishing in the world won’t make any of that happen, so I have to be satisfied with the memories I have, the snapshots I’ve already collected. But darn, I wish I had some new pictures to share.

Happy Father’s Day in heaven Dad. We all miss you every single day.

Author: dawnkinster

I'm a long time banker having worked in banks since the age of 17. I took a break when I turned 50 and went back to school. I graduated right when the economy took a turn for the worst and after a year of library work found myself unemployed. I was lucky that my previous bank employer wanted me back. So here I am again, a long time banker. Change is hard.

16 thoughts on “Fifteen years without you

  1. Seems like we have the same wish. It’s the simple things that make the best memories. Hold those memories close. Happy Father’s Day to your Dad in Heaven.

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  2. Oh gosh, I’m writing this through tears — I’ve “celebrated” 11 Father’s Days now without my dad. You made some lovely memories with your dad, but like you, I wish I had my dad around to make more memories! I wonder if he’s found my dad in Heaven? I like to think the two of them are sitting with fishing poles in hand, laughing over how cool it is their daughters met online and both have Sheltie granddogs!

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    • That would be nice, if they have found each other. My dad never met Katie, but he knew Bonnie, my girl from before. I’m hoping she’s with him now, or at least with her Grandpa Jack, my husband’s dad, they loved each other a whole bunch.

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  3. You have some lovely old photos of your Dad, may your good memories comfort you this Fathers Day:)

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  4. Sending you (((hugs))) as you remember. This is my 18th Father’s Day without my Dad. I soooo know how it feels. (((hugs)))

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  5. That was beautiful Dawn.

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  6. Beautiful and oh so sad too. Memories hold him close and keep him in your heart. But still so hard

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  7. Well put. I never think about photos of the things we do all the time, or that we’re just accustomed to doing, or that I’m too busy to take photos of, or whatever it might be. I try to do that more with everyone the older I (and they) get, and yet–I still wish I had more.

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  8. Pawsome post. We all miss our pawrents and our former pups too. I was thinking of plenty of times past on Sunday.

    Dog Speed,

    Sherman, Gemini and Dog Dad

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