Marking time

It’s been one year. One full year, 365 or 366 days? But who’s counting.

One year ago today I lost the most important man in my life. In a cliched instant. I want to record the day, stand witness to the world losing one of its gentlemen while I was 3,000 miles away. Before sending me on my trip to San Francisco, he sighed heavily at the hospice nurse’s recommendation to eat only creamy foods. A stern order to lay off his beloved fresh fruit. Cause for celebration for most, I suspect this was the reason he finally gave up and called it a day. Who was this man who preferred peaches to carbonara? I have documentation proving we were related, but I’m not sure I’ll ever live up to having him as a father.

Missing him. And wishing, of all things, that we could watch Pittsburgh play a little more ball together.

35 Comments

  1. dr. o
    Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    1 year and 12 days since my youngest son was killed… Sympatico…

  2. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you…

  3. mysterygirl!
    Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    xoxo

  4. shadow
    Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    I’ve followed your blog for quite a bit and yet this is the first time I’ve commented. The 19th of a different month is when I lost my dad and in my case I didn’t see it coming. I won’t lie to you and say it gets easier with years…we all simply are forced to get used to living with memory.

    My thoughts are with you.

  5. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    I lost my dad in 1987, it doesn’t get easier, but the pain gets a little less sharp over time. I’m sorry for your loss!

  6. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    In Judaism the year anniversary of a death marks the date you unveil the tombstone. I always thought that was a nice tradition b/c it allows you to be sad again, to grieve again

    Every year thereafter you are supposed to lite a candle to remember your loved one.

    I’m thinking about you today.

  7. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Sending love to you, dear friend.

  8. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you, Kris. xoxo

  9. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    thinking of you. x

  10. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    I lost my dad on Feb. 28, 2001. The time does take away some of the sharpness, but it doesn’t close the hole in the heart. Thinking of you.

  11. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    my heart goes out to you.

  12. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you today….

  13. Tex In The City
    Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Ditto.

  14. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you.

  15. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Here’s to your dad, whom you loved and love so very much, and here’s to you, who is a daughter to be proud of.

    xoxo

  16. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    What EDW said. Many hugs.

  17. Leenie
    Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you this day, week, month.

  18. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    Thinking of you, too.

  19. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    i, like shadow, watch silently. until now.

    i have been all too prepared to lose my mother, for keeps. i almost did, times before, and once the improbability becomes a possibility, everything changes.

    but my father. he just can’t. and so with that, there are tears, for you.

  20. Posted 01.19.09 | Permalink

    thinking of you, lady. wishing you lots of comfort in the many memories you have.

  21. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    I would find it hard to conceive of a better tribute to your father than to be the wonderful daughter that you are — smart, lucid, witty. I’m a father myself and if my kid turns out half as complex and interesting as you, I’ve done well. Thinking of you as you remember and honor him.

  22. Kate
    Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    EDW said it well. I’m thinking of you.

  23. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    I am so sorry for you. It is hard to be left. Cheers to him and to you.

  24. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    I just stumbled across your blog from Google Reader and wanted to express my sympathies. The first year is the hardest, as you have to get through everything the first time without them.

  25. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    xo

  26. trapped
    Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    I always send you my best heart thoughts when you write of your dad.

    Peace

  27. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    You are in my thoughts (and my heart).

  28. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    So sorry.

  29. Posted 01.20.09 | Permalink

    Thank you my friends. Thank you so much.

  30. Posted 01.21.09 | Permalink

    Sorry you are still missing your Pop.

    You can borrow mine anytime you want. I was getting lectured about the importance of saving money yesterday. Thankfully not in ALL CAPS for a change.

  31. Posted 01.21.09 | Permalink

    To be filed under better late than never wishes from a fuzzy headed (which is different from fuzzy haired) girl who thinks you’re the cat’s meow (even though she technically doesn’t care for cats, yours excluded) – smooches!

  32. Posted 01.21.09 | Permalink

    Beautiful post and it’s clear how much you cared.

  33. Posted 01.24.09 | Permalink

    I’ve also been following your blog for a while and this is the first time I commented. Last week was the 18th anniversary of my father’s death, and it is still a poignant day, thinking of all that I miss not having him here. But, as the years go on, I focus more on the good things he gave me. Anyways, I’m thinking of you.

  34. Posted 01.25.09 | Permalink

    *hug* The anniversaries, and there are so many, are so difficult, aren’t they? Thinking of you………

  35. Posted 01.30.09 | Permalink

    My brother was killed at VA Tech nearly two years ago. Anniversaries & holidays are a bitch – they leave me feeling lonely, lost and full of as much hurt as the day he died.

    Thanks for sharing your struggles, there is some peace in knowing that others have similar experiences with grief.

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