When your dad dies you’re in the moment of loss and you don’t really consider how permanent it is. But dead is forever and that’s a very long time.
In the beginning you get through each day, each moment really, one moment at a time and you try to accomplish all the things you have to do, from arranging a funeral to cancelling his next doctor appointment, and you don’t think about what it will be like sixteen Father’s Days later.
But I can tell you what it’s like. It’s like the first one, just a little softer around the edges. Less the slice of a knife, more the dull ache of a bruise.
Dad would have turned 91 last February. There’s no guarantee he’d still be alive today, but I know for certain that a sleepy truck driver took several years from him — and us — sixteen years ago when he failed to see dad stopped on the freeway ahead.

I wonder if that driver ever thinks of dad. Or us. I think of him often; he’s a father too, and I am sure there will be some Father’s Day thing happening for him this weekend. I don’t begrudge him that. I just wish…I wish he had pulled over when he got sleepy that morning.
I know you all expected some sort of uplifting Father’s Day post, but that’s not where I am this year. Grief ebbs and flows, but the work remains.
In fact I’m working on some truck safety stuff over the weekend. In some ways that’s in honor of my dad. I guess, for me, just about every day is Father’s Day as we fight to improve safety on our roads. Can’t give up, though sometimes it feels futile.
I like to think of him up in heaven sitting with some of your folks who have gone on too, sitting around in easy chairs telling stories about all of us, sharing experiences. Smiling a lot. Don’t see why this isn’t possible, after all, most of us met over the internet, just as unlikely as our folks meeting in the afterlife, right?
Anyway, now I’m rambling. I hope those of you that still have your dad here get the chance to give him a hug or a call or a card. Sometimes dads get lost in our busy worlds, but time is not infinite. Don’t waste any of it.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. No matter where you are.

June 21, 2020 at 10:30 am
Sending you a big hug, Dawn ❤
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June 22, 2020 at 2:03 pm
Thank you Ruth!
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June 21, 2020 at 10:54 am
Very nice remembrance of your father. Happy father’s day to all the dads.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:03 pm
Thank you Frank!
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June 21, 2020 at 1:41 pm
This brings tears to my eyes, Dawn. I’m missing my dad on Father’s Day, too, and I love the mental picture of him and your dad sitting around heaven and watching over us! My dad wasn’t taken by a sleepy trucker; he was taken nearly 12 years ago by cancer. He fought it hard, but his body gave out. Perhaps he’s now giving out cookies to my Dallas?!!
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June 22, 2020 at 2:05 pm
I bet Dallas and your dad are having a great old time together. I believe my previous sheltie, Bonnie, who was best friends with my father-in-law, is with him now. They loved each other so much. I don’t know if Dallas got to meet your dad, the timing would have been tight, but I know they both love you and that’s enough of a bond between them.
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June 22, 2020 at 3:53 pm
Daddy loved Dallas, and the feeling was mutual! Dallas “nursed” my dad through cancer, staying beside or on top of his bed while home nurses paraded in and out. So yes, I’m sure he’s found Dad, and I do feel their ongoing love!
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June 21, 2020 at 4:09 pm
Sweet picture of you and your father. So very sorry to read about the death of your father. How we miss loved ones who have died.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:05 pm
Yes we sure do miss them. Some days it’s just overwhelming.
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June 23, 2020 at 10:25 am
Yes.
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June 21, 2020 at 10:10 pm
So sorry your dad was taken from you that way. My dad passed from prostate cancer, none of us kids were there when he passed, nor my mother either, only my brother-in-law’s sister was with him.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:07 pm
I’m sure it bothers you that none of you were there, but sometimes we don’t get to chose how it goes. I’m glad there was some family member there. My husband was sleeping in the same room as his dad when his dad died of cancer, and my husband didn’t wake up. So you just never know.
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June 22, 2020 at 6:15 am
I am so sorry your Dad was taken away from you so quickly…
Oh how I miss my Daddy… he was taken away by Cancer. But I know he is dancing with my Momma in heaven!
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June 22, 2020 at 2:08 pm
It’s nice to know they’re together, right? We felt that way too. Mom died in July that year, Dad was killed in December. We figured mom needed him more, they had been married 53 years when she died unexpectedly. Dad was so lost without her. Still…he wasn’t ready to leave us either. But we felt some solace that they were together again, he was only without her for 5 months.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:10 pm
Oh how hard to lose both your parents so close in time. I’m so sorry. Sending another hug to you.
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June 22, 2020 at 12:03 pm
So much cancer–my dad, too, of cancer, although it was a race between that and heart disease. He was still active at 85, mentally and physically, still running the household. He wasn’t ready to go and I think was quite angry about the cancer. But I will forever be grateful that he and Mom had thought far, far ahead of any need for it and set up all the paperwork that we’d need to easily manage the disposal of their estate. That’s one of the things that I try to think about every time his absence hits me again: Just one of many ways that he showed us how he loved us all. This year, I couldn’t think of anything to say on Father’s Day, because I couldn’t handle the grief of his absence on top of the death of my dog 4 days earlier. Good dads are hard to come by.
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June 22, 2020 at 12:05 pm
Ooops, can’t edit — I was leading in to saying that your Dad, also, was one of those kinds of dads. I like seeing photos of dads when they’re younger, too–adds so much more depth to the life they’ve led.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:10 pm
I know. You’ve sure got a lot on your plate. Some years I don’t have anything to say either. I read previous years post and wonder where those words came from. Your dad and my dad are a couple of similar guys, and he’s one of the ones I figure is sitting around telling stories, your mom too. I think my parents would have liked your folks a lot. We were lucky in the parents we got.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:11 pm
PS: I’m the age they were when they retired…and I thought they were soooo old. I think about how I feel (which is pretty good most of the time) and that they only got 10 more years and what if that’s all there is I know for darn sure they didn’t feel old and ready to go. Makes me sad and sometimes scared.
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June 22, 2020 at 12:40 pm
I’m lucky I still have my Dad and he lives relatively close to us. With his COPD, we’ve kept our distance during the pandemic, but we chat on the phone once a week. Bless you, Dawn, as you fondly remember him on Father’s Day and every day.
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June 22, 2020 at 2:12 pm
I hope you have many more years with your dad, even with his COPD. And I hope you get to spend some of them actually with him once we figure out this stupid virus. Thanks for the kind words.
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June 22, 2020 at 3:06 pm
If it’s any consolation to you that you grew up to know your Dad, I didn’t.
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June 22, 2020 at 4:21 pm
I’m really sorry you didn’t get to know and spend time with your dad. That’s such a hard loss. Hugs.
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June 24, 2020 at 8:29 am
I cannot imagine the pain of not having time to say goodbye to a precious father or mother. Hugs to you, Dawn…
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