My Dad

Yesterday it was 17 years; 17 years since my dad passed away due to complications of congestive heart failure, kidney failure and a myriad of other illnesses. He was only 44 years old. I was 18, and his death occurred exactly one week to the day of my moving out of the family home and going to college.

My dad wasn’t perfect. Who is, and all the memories I have of him are at least 17 years old, and most are older and fading and perhaps those are the best ones to have because they’re the ones that mean the most to me.

Two days before dad died, he was laying in the hospital and had asked that I come up to visit him. I have always disliked hospitals and the last thing I wanted, as the selfish 18 year old that I was, was to see my dad, sick frail and dying in the hospital. But we all knew that he wasn’t going to live much longer and I agreed to the visit.

That evening I went into his hospital room and he was there in his bed and the biggest smile crossed his face to see me. Like I said, I don’t like hospitals so I hadn’t been up to see him much, if at all, since he had been there. I can still see that smile on his face, my son Loni has his smile so it’s easy to picture. Dad was really sick and didn’t have much strength but he asked me to come up to the top of his bed. He slid over in the bed and I cuddled up next to him.

Dad put his arms around me and pulled me in close to him. At that time we had a little chat, the last one I ever had with him; the last words of fatherly advice that he would ever give to me. You would think, that I would remember everything from that conversation word for word. You would think that I would be able to recall all the things he said to me, but it was an incredibly emotional time and I don’t remember it.

I do, however, remember bits and pieces of the conversation.

Dad told me that he wasn’t going to live much longer. He knew that he had less than 3 days to be here on the earth and that he needed to tie up all his loose ends. This statement, of course, brought a profundity of tears. No girl wants to hear that her dad is dying. I’m sure I told him that it wasn’t true that he would be okay and that he would get better, but I was wrong.

Dad repeated to me the things he had been telling me over and over again the last few years of his life. He told me how proud he was of me for being so successful in school and showing my two younger sisters that it is possible to finish high school and go on to college. He told me how proud he was of me for choosing to continue my education and warned me that it would be difficult but that he believed I could do it. He was proud of me for discovering and exploring and perfecting my talent in music and for not giving up on that. Then he told me the thing that has and will stick with me for the rest of my life.

My dad pulled me close to him and held me tight in his arms. He told me that I was beautiful and that I should never forget how beautiful I am. He told me to not get frustrated with men, that he knew I had never dated anyone but that the right man is out there for me. He also told me it would take me a long time to find that man, but he is out there waiting for someone as incredible as I am. He also told me to not settle for anyone less than what I deserve.

I was very uncomfortable and the last thing I wanted, as a selfish, 18 year old girl, was to be in a room with my dad who was dying. To an 18 year old life can go on forever and ever and I didn’t want that elusion to be taken away. So after a few more minutes of tears I left my dad…

Two days later I was fast asleep in my bed when my mom came into my room to tell me that she was going back to the hospital because dad had passed away…those few minutes in his room was the last I saw my dad alive.

So, on this day late anniversary, I thank my dad for instilling in me the hunger for education, to be all that I can be and to see my full potential as a musician, student and woman.

I love you dad!