Butterfly Kisses for Daddy... I Miss You

Sunday is Father's Day. I'm excited because its my husband's first official Father's Day with Googie.

But I can't help but feel a tinge of sadness. It will be the third Father's Day since my Dad died, unexpectedly.

There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. It weighs heavy on me at times. Sometimes, the sense of loss is suffocating. I talk to him all the time. Though my beliefs aren't traditional, I talk to my father the way most people would pray to their "God".

I dream about him often. Sometimes, in my dreams, I know he's dead. I tell him he's dead. He knows it too. In other dreams, he's very much alive. I wake up excited, ready to talk to him. Then the realization sets in. Then I wake up to the nightmare.

My Dad died September 25, 2003. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had a cold and had left the station on my dinner break. I decided I would go home and take a little nap on the couch. I was hoping it would make me feel better. The Hub was cooking our famous Andouille Pizza for dinner.

The phone rang and I saw on caller id it was my sister. I was annoyed. Why in the world was she calling me when she knew I felt like shit? Still, I answered. Immediately I knew something was wrong.

I cant even write about the phone conversation. Its still upsetting to me, even now, almost three years later. Essentially, my stepmother had called my sis. Dad had a heart attack while on business in south Florida. He was in the hospital.

While I waited for more information, I frantically searched the Internet for plane tickets. The next minutes were a blur. It could have been five it could have been 30. All I remember is the phone ringing again and my sisters tearful voice Get here now.

I knew. I knew at that moment Dad was gone. The Hub and I raced to my car. I kept saying, Hes ok hes ok. I know hes ok. I tried so hard to convince myself it was true. As I drove to my sisters house, its all I could repeat to myself.

I only wish the words could have brought him back. My Dad died surrounded by strangers in a hotel lobby in south Florida. I later learned Dad had gone down to the lobby to get help. He was having chest pains. He was able to tell the front desk clerk he needed help before he collapsed. He was gone.

Despite all the pain associated with losing a parent. There was even more pain for my sister and I. Included in this blog; you will see a letter to my stepmother. It was written December 2003. I warn you, its not nice. It may show many of you a side of me you wont like. I wont apologize for that.


B.,

Hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous. Remember those words Theyre all words I would pick to describe the letter you sent to A. last week. I know you feel you were simply letting her know how you feel, but I wonder did you really think about it before you sent it? Were you careful of the words you used, the things you said?

I know I dont have to defend my sister, shes old enough to take care of herself, and she does a fine job of it still, I wonder. Did you spend as much time with your letter? Were you as careful in writing yours as she was with hers? From reading them both, Id say no, which is why youre getting not only a letter from her in response, but a letter from me as well. Since were all airing out our feelings, I wanted to take a turn.


Acceptance

Ill begin by addressing your claims that A. and I never accepted you as a step mom. First off, you are right. I wont answer for A., but when it comes to me, and our relationship, or should I say lack of relationship, you are mostly to blame. Allow me to explain.

Surely you understand that my parents divorce came as a huge shock to my sister and I. Granted we were aware of the problems our parents had, but I dont think A. nor I ever truly expected them to break up. Mom and dad did a good job of trying to keep most of their problems out of our sight, at least a good deal of them. Everything in our lives seemed fine. A. was approaching her graduation. T. and I had just announced our engagement and just about a month later. BOOM. Our parents were splitting up. After 25 years.

Surely you can understand what a complete and utter shock that was for us. Our entire lives were upended. So forgive me if I didnt embrace you, or my mothers now husband, at the time.

The first time I believe I met you, or at least spent any length of time around you, was just before Christmas 1997. I believe I had come over to my fathers apartment in Lafayette Square, perhaps to exchange Christmas gifts. Shortly after our introductions, I believe we discussed your upcoming birthday, which happens to be on the same date as my mothers. You began talking about how you wanted to change your birth date, so as not to share the day with my mother. Though I dont remember your exact words, I do remember the negative tone you used in discussing my mother. And that then set the tone for the relationship you and I went on to have.

You see, I never appreciated the fact you said those things. Whatever your thoughts and opinions of my mother, and whatever my father and you discussed about her was something you should have kept to yourself. Ill admit in the beginning, it would have taken an absolute angel to get me to accept anyone on the heels of my parents divorce.
At a time in my life when I was DEVASTATED from the break-up of my parents marriage, I certainly didnt need to hear this new woman in my fathers life badmouthing my mother. So you see, you did yourself no favors in my eyes. And thats just the way it began. Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous.

Something thats almost humorous to me this woman you so gleefully bashed for lack of a better description, was the same woman who constantly told me to give you a chance. In the time you were with my father, I dont think there was ever a negative word said about you by my mother. She instead, always asked me to give you a chance that you couldnt possibly be as bad as I said.

Even throughout the trying time of my fathers death and the memorial and even weeks after, my mother, the same one you loved to speak about in a negative manner continued to support you. When Angela and I were upset about something that was happening concerning you, my mother continued to give you the benefit of the doubt, telling us to be patient with you. To consider YOUR feelings, even if it meant almost ignoring our own.
Thats something you couldnt even do.

The rocky relationship between you and I continued when you seemingly took every chance you got to belittle me in some way. Theres a long list of examples things not only I saw, but T., A. and R. as well. Ill never forget the cookout at A. and R. house in Hillsdale for Dads birthday. I remember cooking him a German Chocolate Cake from scratch, something my mother had done for him every year for his birthday and something I wanted to do for him. It was the first time I had ever attempted to bake such a cake and I was struggling. You took the opportunity to be very negative to me, to ridicule me in the kitchen while Dad was outside with T. and R. A. was there and heard it and when you walked out she remarked on what you said.

You claim you tried to be kind. And to some extent you were, when Dad was around. The minute he was out of sight, your claws came out and you exhibited that same hurtful demeanor weve seen over the past few months. Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous.


You always resented A., and especially me because we were number one in Dads heart and you were well below us.

To me, you never deserved the title of stepmother. That would mean I should use the term mother in association with you, when I never considered you anything of the sort. You see, a mother cares about others... they aren't selfish. They look out for their children and in some way, for the children of others as well. You don't know how to do that. You like to fool yourself in to thinking you are a mother and even grandmother. The sad fact is... you are not and never will be.

Leaving His Service

Im curious how you have twisted the fact that I left the chapel during the memorial service as a show of animosity toward you. Perhaps you didnt notice, because you were certainly quite self-absorbed during the entire ordeal, not that its really any change from your day to day behavior, but not only was I dealing with the loss of my father, I was also extremely ill. I was taking a myriad of antibiotics and other meds prescribed by the doctor just the day before. I was weak and overcome with emotions during the ceremony and felt physically ill and dizzy. I certainly didnt want to pass out in the chapel and I definitely didnt want to throw up during the service. I told A. I needed to go to the bathroom. She went with me to make sure I was ok. You say it was disrespectful for us to have left. Would you have preferred the alternative?

While were on the subject of being disrespectful, what about you and your actions? Don't you think it's disrespectful the way you IGNORED the children of your dead husband? HIS FLESH AND BLOOD? Thats exactly what you did during the visitation. You went to great lengths to introduce Ty., C. and S. to visitors, while flat out ignoring A. and I.


McLane Employees.

You say A. and I did not speak to the employees. First off, we didn't know or really remember any of them. Our interaction with McLane employees had ended years earlier, once we quit going to the yearly Christmas parties in Brookhaven, MS. We were children then... I think the last time I went to one was when I was 15. So explain to me how I'm, 14 years later, supposed to remember these people on the day of my father's memorial? In case you hadn't noticed, and I'm sure you probably didn't because it's always been ALL ABOUT YOU, my sister and I were in mourning as well.

My mother stressed how important it was for A. and I to introduce you to anyone you may not know who came to the service. I did that as best I could under the circumstances, only to essentially be slapped in the face with your animosity towards myself. I don't remember meeting any of the Goldwing people who came, but I'm sure Ty, C. and S. sure do.

Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous.

And while were on the subject of McLane, Im curious. Why did you wait until your letter to A. to even let us know there had been a memorial for dad at the company? Why did you not think to mention it when we drove to your house to pick up the box of things you so graciously passed on to us?

Im also curious. Why would anyone ever think, when time to get something as personal as a loved ones ashes, that a Wal-Mart parking lot would be an appropriate meeting place? Am I missing something here? Or was it all about convenience for you? I cant for the life of me understand it. But then, no one who has learned about that can either.


My relationship with Dad

There is no doubt Dad and I had a rocky relationship, at times. But sometimes he twisted the fact that I worked odd hours, etc in to the fact that I just wouldnt return his calls. It took time for him to understand, but we had worked past those differences. I will not allow you to put me on some kind of guilt trip for the past. No matter what, my father knew how much I loved, knows how much I still do, how much I miss him everything. But Id like to say just how very nice of you it was to bring it up. Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous.


Dads Gift To Us

Id like you to understand something. When it came to asking about a will and beneficiary designation, we were simply doing what we were told to do. My attorney advised me to contact McLane to simply give our contact information. What I find so disturbing was the way you seemed to take pleasure in stressing to us that you were 100 eneficiary on everything. Comments like, Your father took very good care of me. I was surprised Tell me, what purpose does a comment like that serve? We asked the questions because thats one of the many unfortunate things that have to be discussed when someone dies, not because we were money hungry. Based on your reaction, Im guessing you either thought that, or you were just displaying how important certain things are to you. Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous.


I understand you are having a hard time letting go of things of Dads. But please dont treat us like gold-diggers or grave robbers when we ask for things belonging to him. Surely you understand the things we ask for are items that either, belong in our family or are simply personal belongings. They are just things, you are right, but surely you can see how hurt we are that some items could simply pass right out of our hands, without us first having the chance to have them.

Of course wed love to have more of his personal belongings. Of that there is no doubt, but whether we get another shirt of dads another tie a piece of clothing, its not important. You can have his money. You can have everything, but in reality, you have nothing. A. and I have the greatest gift of all from him. We are living, breathing memorials to him. And thats something NO ONE IN THIS WORLD can take away from us and something you can never have.

At one time, there is no doubt my father loved you. You were there when he was at a very low and lonely point in his life. You filled a void for him... one that my mother, his true love, left when she could no longer take his alcohol abuse. You filled a void for him when I, his oldest daughter, got married and began a life of my own. You were there for him when Angela, his little girl, started growing up and staking out a path of her own. That's all you were to him... a void filler. You were just able to cash in on it.

See, what you don't know about are all the times he talked to A. and I and about how unhappy he was... how much he missed it here... how much he missed us. You weren't there to see him roll his eyes when his cell phone rang and he saw it was you on the other end. You weren't there all the times he talked to K., his best friend, about how unhappy he was with you and how he really just wanted out. You werent aware of the times he talked to my grandmother (moms mother) and my aunts and told them how he wished he could come visit, but your insecurities were in the way.

For someone who claimed to be loved by my father so much, and who claimed to love him in return I dont think you really understand what love is. I think you talk about it so often to reassure yourself, perhaps to even convince yourself. Love is give and take. So why were you always the one who took? Did you ever give?

My fathers life and legacy will continue through A. and I through C. through A.'s baby due in July and through the baby I hope to conceive in the next year. Unfortunate though it is for these children to only have photographs and stories to remember my father by, those memories will be plentiful. A. and I will make sure of it. At least they wont have any memory of you. You can bet we will make sure of that as well.

I have no doubt you have gone and portrayed us in a very negative light to people who dont already know us, and probably even to people who do. Thats fine. For myself, I rest assured knowing that your actions speak much louder than any words I could say to someone. Friends and family members who met you and watched you and have since heard about the Wal-Mart/ashes exchange and read your letter in response to A.'s see you for what you are. Remember, hurtful, cruel, malicious, spiteful, unkind, venomous. You reap what you sow and I certainly dont want to be around when your garden blooms. If you think Im a bitch, wait until you meet Karma.
I will forever be, my fathers daughter,