Today is the one month anniversary of my father’s death in my backyard. It still seems so unbelievable, so surreal. One minute, he’s mowing my grass, the next he’s dead on the ground. It really seems cruel. I’m still stunned that I didn’t get to see him coherent on his last day alive. That bothers me so much. I wish I could have said some things, done some things. Mom’s telling people he had been depressed and was “ready to go.” I don’t believe that. Yes, he had been depressed, ever since he retired. He thought he had no further value, which was untrue, but he still had plans and dreams. He wanted to take we four back up to Nova Scotia where we once lived and show my wife around. They were going up to Pittsburgh to be with old friends that weekend. He wanted to take we four up to Iowa and Minnesota to visit family and show Gretchen around. He still had a lot of life in him and I resent the fact that it was yanked away from him, and he from us.

There’s one thing I’m trying to keep in mind though. Mom showed me a computer print out Dad brought over to my house on his last day alive, for me to keep and ponder. It reads “The past should be left in the past because it can destroy your future. Live your life for what tomorrow has to offer, not for what yesterday has taken away.” Wow! How prophetic was that??? Did he somehow know? I can’t believe that he did, but why did he bring that to me on that particular day? I do need to look to the future and quit tormenting myself about the past, about what I didn’t say or didn’t do. I said a lot and did everything I could possibly do to keep him alive. It wasn’t enough. The paramedics couldn’t save him either, so maybe I’ve been too hard on myself.

My mom is doing okay. Yesterday was their 49th wedding anniversary, and she and Gretchen and I went out to eat. Some tears were shed, but Dad was fondly remembered. I just can’t believe I can never pick up the phone and call him again and get one of his funny emails he sent me. It’s quite sad, really. RIP Dad.

11 thoughts on “Anniversary

  1. Ami

    It is cruel, Scott. I am still thinking of you both a lot. I am impressed with your insight about the print out he left you- he may well have had a feeling something was going to happen, or maybe he wanted to reinforce the beautiful toast he gave at your wedding where he didn’t pretend your lives had been all wine and roses up to that point, but he emphasized your new, beautiful, beginning together.

    I kept a tile on my counter where I would see it every day while my dad was sick and after he died. It said “remember yesterday, dream about the future, but live today”. I would send it to you, but I passed it on to a friend who lost her husband a few years ago. I think it is such good advice for someone going through the grieving process, and really for anybody. Your father gave you so many gifts, and the print out is one of them.

    Another thing I think about when I think of your father’s speech about new beginnings is his faith in God and the afterlife. If his vision is true, just imagine the new beginning he is making right now! Scott, if in his life he was so able to sense and feel God’s presence, then in his death, I am sure he senses and feels the very real love and admiration you still hold for him-he knew it in his life on earth and he knows it now.

    I hope these posts are ok- let me know if you would prefer a private message.

    Love you tons- sending you three love, love, peaceful thoughts, and love


  2. I’m so sorry for your great loss. And that he was taken so suddenly and quickly makes it even tougher, I think. 😦 Those words your Dad left…we all need to heed them. Thank you for sharing them here.
    My dad died after a long painful battle with cancer. I have sad painful memories from his last days of life. But, also, good memories of things we talked about during that week.


    1. Thanks very much. I’m sorry to hear about your father. My father had beaten cancer twice. That’s what made this so shocking. He just keeled over dead. Out of the blue. Weird how life is sometimes.


  3. I’m sorry at your loss, and so close to their wedding anniversary. You will surely find solace in all the things he did well in life. This will balance the pain, though hardly erase it. Stay strong.


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