Growing up an only child, adopted at that, I was the main spot in my Dad's life. He was a carpenter and he use to take me to work with my own little hard hat. He use to come in every night and tuck me in and tell me stories. Then I became a teenager. He still tried to keep me as "Dad's little girl". How I wish I could have that back.
I had my twins when I was 17. When he found out I was pregnant he was so angry. But, I became so sick and then it didn't matter anymore. When David and Darryl were born, oh God, he was in heaven. They became is boys. He was so adamant that I not marry their father because he was afraid I would be hurt. But, yet he walked me down the aisle anyway and gave me such a beautiful wedding. Then my son Timothy was born and he loved him so much also. They were all his boys. He was just like a dad to them. Then the abuse started and he was there again. Picking up the pieces and trying to put me back together. I think that is when he started to get old before my eyes.
Years later I had my little girl, Destiny Faith, who is 15 months old now. When he saw her face for the first time he fell in love. Then he looked at my mom and said it was a shame that he wasn't going to see her grow up.
HE KNEW! The night before he died he got out the will making sure mom knew where it was. Then he told her that she would have no worries. After that he recited a verse from the bible about when it is your time to go you just have to go. My mom asked him if he was afraid. He said no and it was soon time. He was a Pentecostal Christian and he lived by his beliefs and he died with them.
He went out the next morning to get the snow off the car to come up and see the kids. He didn't get to see them that day. He had a massive heart attack. My mom found him. She said he looked so peaceful with a smile on his face. When my mom called and told me I went on to the hospital not believing what she was telling me.
OH GOD! It is still not real to me.
That day I gave my dad a kiss and a hug then I told him that I love him. This first time since I was 13 years old I told him I loved him and he couldn't even hear it. And there is no way that I can take that back. It kills me. My mom said that he knew. I often wonder if I had been a better daughter and not so much worry would he still be alive. I feel sometimes like it is my fault he isn't here. I can't seem to shake that feeling.
Please feel free to contact me. I would love to have someone to talk to.
This is dedicated to my Dad, Wilfred Tucker, who died at the age of 79. I hope I never forget your face and your eyes. I love you Dad.