Sunday, June 17, 2012
Happy Father's Day, Daddy. We miss you.
This is my third Father's Day since my dad passed away.
I never know what to do with myself on Father's Day. I walk around afraid that someone is going to ask me if I "took care of my dad for Father's Day". I fear that I might start to cry. And never stop.
I only describe myself as "the son my father never had' (I am the oldest of three daughters). I learned the game of football so that I could spend time with my dad and speak his language.
The first NFL season opener after he died found me inconsolable. Three years later, I still reach for the phone when I'm watching a football or basketball game and need to gloat or commiserate.
Burying my daddy was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I tried to do right by him and my family when all that I wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry.
You know, it's funny that I always expected the "head of the family" to step in and handle matters. Imagine my shock when I discover that mythical guy was ME!
I love you Daddy.