Father's Day

 

If you are a Dad, Happy Father's Day.

This is my father. The picture was taken last September during one of his better days. Dad talked with me about his time in Turkey and of his trip through Europe. He talked of his youth. He was happy that day. He died five months later.  

I miss my Dad. 

Dad died in his home--the way he wanted to. He didn't have an audience, which I guarantee he didn't want. I was there. Dawin was sleeping on the couch. We'd sent Squirrel home, who hadn't had a lot of down-time that week. 

It was just me and Dad. Throughout the evening, Dad hadn't been responsive, but he'd been squeezing my hand with more strength than any of us thought he had. Some time after midnight, Dad took his last breath and then was gone. 

I woke up Darwin and he called Squirrel. "You need to come," he said. 

While we waited for the hospice nurse to arrive, we cracked jokes. We were punch drunk, weary and devastated. Our go-to in those moments is laughter. Dad would have wanted it that way.  

Earlier that evening, I took this picture to show Darwin and Squirrel how Dad was holding on and squeezing my hand. It was the last picture taken of my Dad.

 

I have been enormously blessed with not one father but two. Bonus Dad has been my rock through Bonus Mom's death and then through Dad's death. I talked to him on Friday. He asked about fifteen questions ranging from the state of my arm (meh) to small details about my upcoming trip to Michigan. 

As we were hanging up, I wished him a Happy Father's Day. "Is it this week?" he asked, in typical Bonus Dad fashion. For me, every time I talk to him, it's Father's Day.    

Bonus Dad