10 years

It will be ten years tomorrow since I lost my dad. Ten years is a long time. It’s a third of my life. A lot has happened in ten years. The last time I saw my dad, I had finished two years of college and just dropped out for a semester because we realized how sick he was.  Since then I finished my chemistry degree, worked for a small pharmaceutical company, worked for the chemistry department at Virginia Tech, and then decided to switch careers. I got a masters in global public health, and spent a summer doing research in Ghana. I moved from Maryland to Blacksburg to Atlanta to Africa. Now I’m serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Botswana. Sometimes I feel like dad may think I’ve lost my mind, if he could see where I am today. It’s not that I’m doing anything bad, but it’s so far from the course he helped me set at age 18, or maybe 15.

It scares me sometimes that my life seems so normal without my dad. What they say about a ‘new normal’ after someone dies is completely true. Normal now is just me and my mom. We spend holidays together (when I’m not in the Peace Corps), vacation together, help each other move, talk on the phone weekly. Memories of a Christmas where it was the three of us are so far removed that it feels like the memories belong to someone else.

And yet the memories are there, in every part of my life. Dad teaching me to do laundry when I was twelve. Dad taking me hiking in North Carolina when I was six. Dad chaperoning girl scout trips, when he got all of us to chorus BEEP BEEP BEEP as he backed up the old red van, causing my girl scout leader to laugh so hard so could barely see the road. Taking me canoeing with his boy scout troop when I was five and plucking me out of the water when I fell in. Helping me with math homework, teaching me how to budget my allowance. Tolerating my hamsters and guinea pig, and even voluntarily picking up cinnamon (the guinea pig) every now and then. Supporting me in school, sports, drama, my faith. Pushing me to give things my best effort. Taking the time to talk with me about things (sometimes more than I wanted). Swimming in the ocean with me. Cooking creatively in the kitchen, to the point that I demanded to know exactly –what- went in that omelet before I would eat it. Taking me on visits to colleges. Volunteering with my church youth group hours and hours a week. Mentoring boy scouts. Loving and respecting my mom. Being a peacemaker in our family when things got heated. Telling everyone to be alert… because the world needs more lerts. Teaching me by example how to sleep for 14 hours straight and then being WAY hyper on family vacations. Frying 6 turkeys one thanksgiving to get the most use out of the oil. Opening his Christmas presents one year lying on his back, kicking his feet in the air, pretending to be 5 (while mom was afraid he’d drop the dutch oven he was unwrapping on his face). Always logical, always caring, always a sense of humor.

I see so much of him in myself, and I like that. I inherited his and mom’s heart for service and youth, a big reason I’m where I am now, serving as a PCV working with youth. I feel like I could have explained my career change to him and he would have been supportive, I’m just sorry I never got that chance.

He was also very much in favor of me taking risks and being my own person, so I don’t think it would bother him that I’m hanging out in Africa. I was showing signs of the international travel bug as a freshman in college. I went to him with my plan (that didn’t materialize) of going to Kazakhstan over my first spring break, and we strategized over how best to break the idea to mom without freaking her out. (Keep in mind this was like, 2 months after 9/11).

I have no regrets about how I spent the time I had with my dad. Sure, I was an emotional teenager at times, but we were able to talk things out and nothing was really left unsaid. I’m only sorry that the beginning of our friendship as two adults got cut so short.

I found the following shortly after dad died and I always identified with it. I was 20 when he passed, and the cars full of teenagers would often be going to and from scouting activities and youth group.

A great man died today.

He wasn't a world leader or a famous doctor or a war hero or a sports figure. He was no business tycoon, and you will never see his name in the financial pages. But he was one of the greatest men who ever lived. He was my father.

I guess you might say he was a person who was never interested in getting credit or receiving honors. He did corny things like pay bills on time, go to church on Sunday and serve as an officer in the P.T.A.

He helped his kids with their homework and drove his wife to do the grocery shopping on Thursday nights. He got a great kick out of hauling his teenagers and their friends to and from football games.

Tonight is my first night without him. I don't know what to do with myself. I am sorry now for the times I didn't show him the proper respect. But I am grateful for a lot of other things.

I am thankful that God let me have my father for 15 years. And I am happy that I was able to let him know how much I loved him. That wonderful man died with a smile on his face and fulfillment in his heart. He knew that he was a great success as a husband and a father, a brother, a son, and a friend.

I wonder how many millionaires can say that.