Another year has come and gone...

May 3.  An ordinary day for most, I'm sure.  But for me? Not so much.

May 3, 2003 was a day I won't forget.  I was up early that day and had returned home from running errands to hear my phone ringing.  The caller ID showed "Dad's Phone" so I quickly picked up.

"Hey Dad, what's up?" I asked.  The answer changed my life forever.  It wasn't my dad.  It wasn't even my dad's wife. It was an unfamiliar woman's voice crying and talking so quickly over a poor-quality phone line that I could only make out the words "passed away." 

I immediately panicked and screamed "Who is this? What is going on????" and then my dad's wife DID get on the phone.  She was crying, too, and apologized, telling me that she was too upset to make the call, that I was the first to know that my dad had passed away in his sleep the previous night.

My dad had many issues with his health: he had type 2 diabetes that he eventually had to go on insulin to manage, he had heart disease, and had survived a double bypass that was originally supposed to be a triple bypass, and because they used some of his leg artery for the bypass, his leg wasn't healing well because of his diabetes.  He was a bit of a mess, I knew that.  But he was my dad.  And dads are supposed to be indestructible.

But he wasn't.  He had died, peacefully in his sleep, thank the universe. 

I told Gail I would call my brother in Seattle.  My other brother was out of the country and I wasn't sure how to reach him.  So I hung up, dried my eyes a bit, and started dialing.  I called my brother, my grandmother, and my mother, and somehow got the words out.  I called my boss and one of my friends in NC, because I knew I'd be heading to Oregon and would miss some work and need someone to take care of my cat.

And I cried.  A lot.

Nowadays I don't cry as much, but I still miss my dad.  He didn't get to see me get my Master's degree, or meet my now husband or even walk me down the aisle at my wedding.  But those moments were still beautiful and wonderful.  I miss him, but have learned to live without his physical presence. 

And another May 3 has come and gone.

I love you Dad!