"Daddy, when I get bigger I'm going to marry you". That's what I used to tell my dad when I was a little girl. My dad was always the closest person to me, I could go to him with anything. If I was bored and needed a playmate, he was there, when I had just made up this great dance to my Shawn Cassidy record, he would watch with great pride, when I had just made cookies for the first time in my life, he was the first to try them and even though they were horrible, he smiled and told me that I did a great job, when I needed that perfect dress for "Graduation", he willingly went into every store and waited patiently while I tried on every dress in the store. He was always so proud of me in everything that I did. He was my advisor and confidant and always had a hug for me when I was feeling down.
My father was everything to me, but most of all he was my hero. He always provided for his family and made sure that we had the things we needed. If my dad had his last $10.00 in his wallet and I asked him if I could borrow money for whatever reason, he would give it to me. We only became closer as I got older. Unfortunately, my parents divorced 8 years ago and my father moved away from me. This was very difficult forme, but as time went on I learned to accept the long distance between us. I still managed to see him quite often. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding and he even became a very proud grandfather to my son, Cole. He just loved him so much. After the birth of my second son, Blake, on February 23, 2000, my dad kept telling me that he wanted to come up and visit to meet his new grandson. For some reason he kept putting it off, telling me he was very tired and not feeling very well
At 12:00am on October 26, 2000, my phone rang. I didn't answer it because I was too tired and didn't want to talk to anybody. However, curiosity got the better of me.
I went downstairs to listen to the message. "Michelle, it's your brother Michael. I don't want to say this on your machine, but our father is dead". The room started to spin and I just kept saying "NO" over and over again. It was the phone call that I was dreading most, but most of all it was the phone call I was not expecting. I kept thinking that somebody would call me back and say "oh no, don't worry, he's fine now", but that didn't happen.
I miss my dad very much and two months later am still having a hard time dealing with his death. I miss him very much. I think about him everyday and even think I see him sometimes. Sometimes I can talk about him with no problem, but most times it's very difficult to get through a conversation without getting choked up.
I love you Dad, wherever you may be.
Barrie, Ontario, Canada