Not just any Friday...
This isn't one of those "Thank God It's Friday!!" posts, because since I've been out of work, it's either been one long ass weekend (yay!), or one long ass Monday(bleh.).
But today, well, it's different for a number of reasons... first and foremost (for me anyway), today is the 5th anniversary of my father's death. This date in 1999 was also a Friday. I miss my dad a lot, because he was always there for me no matter how badly I screwed up. I wish I had been with him at the end, but I was in Massachusetts. I talked to him the morning of the 8th, and he couldn't hear me because he didn't have the sound amplifier thingie on his phone. He kept asking me to repeat myself, and I did, to the point of speaking loudly into the phone. I heard him hand the phone off to my mom, telling her that he couldn't hear a damn thing I was saying.
Little did I realize that would be my last phone call with him. He died later that day. I didn't get a chance to tell him I loved him. I've beaten myself up over it ever since. Even now, my eyes are tearing up as I write this...
Of course, I knew he knew I loved him, but I should have said it to him while I had him on the phone. Even if he couldn't hear me. But, I had no inkling that he would die that very day. No one did.
When I went out to California early the following week to attend the funeral, I had a lot of mixed emotions. The day after the funeral, there was an earthquake (only I could travel 3000 miles to arrive just in time for a damn earthquake!). I remember my oldest son running into the room I was sleeping in (my old room when I was growing up) asking "did you feel that?" I woke up just long enough to tell him it was only an earthquake and to go back to bed! Boy was I jaded about earthquakes, or what??? They don't even scare me anymore.
Dad once told me that I could do anything I wanted to do with my life. He knew I wanted to write. He was one of the first people to tell me I was good at it. So the email I got this morning from a complete stranger was especially gratifying.
The writer said, in part, about my manuscript, Carnyville: I couldn't put it down :). Okay, I went away from it a few times, but it kept calling me back. I couldn't wait to find out what happened next.
What an awesome compliment! I've read this email at least a dozen times, and I still can't get over that someone who I don't even know, who didn't have to read it, did read it and liked it enough to tell me so in an email!
I know, somewhere, that Dad is smiling.
--MorelaterZ--
But today, well, it's different for a number of reasons... first and foremost (for me anyway), today is the 5th anniversary of my father's death. This date in 1999 was also a Friday. I miss my dad a lot, because he was always there for me no matter how badly I screwed up. I wish I had been with him at the end, but I was in Massachusetts. I talked to him the morning of the 8th, and he couldn't hear me because he didn't have the sound amplifier thingie on his phone. He kept asking me to repeat myself, and I did, to the point of speaking loudly into the phone. I heard him hand the phone off to my mom, telling her that he couldn't hear a damn thing I was saying.
Little did I realize that would be my last phone call with him. He died later that day. I didn't get a chance to tell him I loved him. I've beaten myself up over it ever since. Even now, my eyes are tearing up as I write this...
Of course, I knew he knew I loved him, but I should have said it to him while I had him on the phone. Even if he couldn't hear me. But, I had no inkling that he would die that very day. No one did.
When I went out to California early the following week to attend the funeral, I had a lot of mixed emotions. The day after the funeral, there was an earthquake (only I could travel 3000 miles to arrive just in time for a damn earthquake!). I remember my oldest son running into the room I was sleeping in (my old room when I was growing up) asking "did you feel that?" I woke up just long enough to tell him it was only an earthquake and to go back to bed! Boy was I jaded about earthquakes, or what??? They don't even scare me anymore.
Dad once told me that I could do anything I wanted to do with my life. He knew I wanted to write. He was one of the first people to tell me I was good at it. So the email I got this morning from a complete stranger was especially gratifying.
The writer said, in part, about my manuscript, Carnyville: I couldn't put it down :). Okay, I went away from it a few times, but it kept calling me back. I couldn't wait to find out what happened next.
What an awesome compliment! I've read this email at least a dozen times, and I still can't get over that someone who I don't even know, who didn't have to read it, did read it and liked it enough to tell me so in an email!
I know, somewhere, that Dad is smiling.
--MorelaterZ--
My name is Stef, and I approve this post. Posted @ 4:48 PM
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