Memories of You and I

Written by PushingUpRoses on January 22nd, 2010

Dear Dad, youandi

Today marks a crucial date for me.  You died exactly ten years ago, in the room next to my room where I am sitting now; you had slipped into a coma for that entire day and passed on, not peacefully like I wanted or imagined it, early in the morning.  I was fourteen, and you were 52.

I don’t want to talk about your death further, but I want to instead write you this much needed and deserved letter, hoping that you can somehow sense what I am trying to communicate to you from wherever you rest.

I didn’t appreciate you when you were alive.  Not enough for the person you were.  Do you remember all those times I begged you to take me to McDonalds after school?  You almost always gave into me, and I don’t know if it’s because you were a softy, or because you enjoyed our time together so much that you also wanted to go to McDonalds.  I am fairly confident it was both.  I remember when I was in Jr High, I had to walk to the bus stop.  It was only a block away, I could have walked home, but you always came and picked me up in that baby blue Chevy Lumina with a big smile on your face.  I know I didn’t appreciate those small things at the time, in fact I may have taken them for granted, but I do now.   You took me to best buy so many late evenings when my mom wouldn’t.  Infact, mom would never have any of that nonsense, she would be in bed sleeping by the time our evening started.  I remember so many times staying up late in the dining room with you, listening to music, learning about old bands from your era, playing old records and 45s, and oh yes…creating the much underrated compilation cassette tape.  I still have all the ones you recorded.  Remember the cassette tape of The Cars Greatest hits?  Right before you passed I fell in love with it, and played it 24/7.  Shortly after you passed away, I accidentally broke it.  I cried for hours.

We used to have chess tournaments before you got too sick to play.  My official player name was “The Duchess of Windsor” and yours was “King Wilhelm.”  We’d play almost every evening after dinner, and blast the much necessary background music, Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits III.  I know you let me win a lot of those games, you know.  Your chess abilities were unmatched by my feeble attempts.  The day before you died, you became sharp as a tack.  It almost seemed miraculous, everyone thought you had been given more time.  That night we played chess, and we came to a draw.  Several hours later, you couldn’t talk or open your eyes, then a couple hours later, you were being carried off.  I am sorry I didn’t stay in the room with you, I hope you understood I was frightened.  It’s hard to watch your best friend die, and not just die, but lose their breath knowing they will never be able to catch it – just listening to you choke from my room was painful enough.

When you were suffering through chemotherapy, I am sorry I wasn’t there for you more often.  Your condition made me feel awkward – when it was hard for you to speak at times do to loss of cognition, I didn’t know what to do.  I admit to have felt ashamed, but I want you to know that I would never be ashamed of you now, and I mean that so genuinely.  I am sorry.

Over time I learned to cope with losing you, with the assurance in my heart that you are still with me somehow, that you can still see me, and are proud of me.  I hope you are proud of me, because I live my life the way you lived yours when you were dying: proud, confident, and strong.   You are my hero.

You died ten years ago, but sometimes I feel like you are still around.  Whenever I get in my car, Neil Diamond always seems to be playing.  Quit messin’ with my radio, Dad – I -still- don’t like him.

Maybe I will never see you again in any physical or spiritual sense, but even if I do not, I hold onto and cherish these memories you left me with great fondness.  Every day I become scared that I will start forgetting those memories, and then I will have nothing left of you.  Nothing scares me more.  But I don’t forget.
So thank you Dad, for inspiring my me to be who I am today.  I’ve had my set backs, and I have had some rough times, times I am not proud of, actions I regret, and events I wish I could take back, but overall, at this very moment, I am happy.  I just wanted you to know.

Love always,

Sarah

meanddad

  • Bekefel

    Way to tug on my heartstrings man. I really wasn't expecting that. I feel for you though, my Dad has ME, and was incapable of doing anything for a long time. He's alot better now, and I know it's incomparable to the loss of your father, but I know what it's like to be afraid of losing someone. A friend of mine recently lost his mother to Cancer, and I was upset then. I can't even imagine what it would be like to lose one of my own parents, so I really am sorry to hear you had to go through with that.

    It's good to let your feelings out like this though. This letter was almost poetic in places, saddening but also nice to read your experiences. It's good that you are strong now. And you'll never forgot the good times.

  • Biscuit

    That was touching, Sarah. *tear*.
    It's good that he was such a great man while he was around.

  • pushinguproses

    Thank you so much for reading! My Dad was also the victim to cancer, it's a very stubborn illness, isn't it? And I am glad to hear your father is doing better with ME, I can't imagine what that must be like.

  • pushinguproses

    Thank you, miss. He was a very well liked man! I really wish I could me more like him.

  • LotusPrince

    This is a really powerful entry, and I found myself emotionally affected by it as well as the other people who commented here. I chuckled at the Neal Diamond bit, as well. I'm sorry for your loss, but know that this article will touch anyone who reads it, as it is very passionate and emotionally invested, and many of the readers will be able to relate to some aspect of it, from the little drives to the chess games. Well done.

  • MeAndMe

    Beautiful, all I can say is; he's probably in a better place. Much wishes fo the best for you.

  • http://twitter.com/riathepinkie Kayla Moore

    Roses that was the most touching letter I have read in a long time. It brought a few tears to my eyes. I am sure wherever your father is he is very proud of you.

  • pushinguproses

    I am glad you chuckled at my lil Neil Diamond part. :) As serious as this entry is, I really remember my Dad in a happy way and have so many funny moments featuring him. I am glad you found the entry so moving, I really thought it would bore people to tears.

  • pushinguproses

    I am glad you chuckled at my lil Neil Diamond part. :) As serious as this entry is, I really remember my Dad in a happy way and have so many funny moments featuring him. I am glad you found the entry so moving, I really thought it would bore people to tears.

  • thehenryspock

    I don't know what to say. I wish I could give you a big hug. You are a beautiful person.

  • pushinguproses

    I appreciate that. I try my best! -hug!-

  • NeoScriptor

    I would never have guessed that something so hopeful and endearing would be written by the girl that I met just over a year ago. You have changed a lot since I met you. For months, you focused on the awful things happening in your life and found it hard to get up in the morning. I tried my best to comfort you and tell you of how wonderful our future would be together, but it's hard to convince away years of hardship with words. Over time, you began to believe my visions of the future. By never giving up hope, you've become the brilliant woman you are today, not afraid of anything in spite of less-than-ideal circumstances.

    The more I learned about your dad, the more I wanted to be like him; the more I wanted to meet him. I wish I could have. I wish I knew what he thought of me. From what you tell me, it seems we may have been good friends. I, too, hope he's looking down on us somewhere, wishing us the best. Sometimes I think he's the reason we met. The odds of us meeting were 1/1,000,000, but he saw his daughter was not in a good place and decided to thrust another goofy man into her life to make her happy. I consider that my mission. Every smile I can make appear on your lovely face is like your dad telling me that he approves of me.

    I love you
    -Chris

  • Obscurus Lupa

    I didn't expect this and it really touched me. I have no idea what it would be like to lose a parent, but I'm glad you wrote this because it puts things into perspective. I think your dad is definitely proud of you.

  • pushinguproses

    Thank you. :) I guess personal entries really have a lot more substance, don't they?

  • Danny O'Leary

    That is beautiful. I can only imagine what it must be like to have a relationship so strong with a parent (not that mine are bad we have just grown very far apart in reccent years) You are a much stronger person than i am i can safely say that.

  • pushinguproses

    Thank you, I appreciate the comment. I don't know how strong I really am, I do have my moments, but I try my hardest.

  • Danny O'Leary

    That is beautiful. I can only imagine what it must be like to have a relationship so strong with a parent (not that mine are bad we have just grown very far apart in reccent years) You are a much stronger person than i am i can safely say that.

  • pushinguproses

    Thank you, I appreciate the comment. I don't know how strong I really am, I do have my moments, but I try my hardest.

  • Brian

    Such an intense and intimate letter, i almost feel guilty for reading it… hope you're staying strong! Love your Let's Plays

  • Tony

    I just came across this after learning about you and your videos. All I can say is you made a grown man tear up. Being a father myself, the thought of what can happen scares me, not for myself, but, for my little girl. Although I didn’t think it was possible, you made me, as a father, appreciate my little girl even more. Thank you