Hey Dad

Hey Dad.

It’s hard to believe it’s been over ten years since you’ve been gone. Some days, it feels a lot longer than that, and some other days, it feels like you’ve left just yesterday. What is it like up there? Did you see Mom’s parents? Is it nice up there?

I still remember seeing you in that hospital bed after seeing your mustache shaved off. I hardly recognized you. I didn’t like seeing you like that and I knew you didn’t either. You weren’t supposed to be there. You were supposed to be home with us and healing, like you were before.

I remember you taking me to the rodeo. You let me wear your cowboy hat while we watched the bulls jumping around and the bull riders trying to hang on. It was so long ago, but I remember. We took pictures that night. We were so happy and having a great time. It was the first and last time I went to the rodeo.

You know what was really cool? Sometimes, when you picked me up from school on your Harley Davidson, some of the other kids were jealous because their dads weren’t cool enough to own a motorcycle. I sat in front of you for the longest times on that motorcycle because I was too little to hang off the back. I started riding in the back after I turned seven. It was such a rush, and I loved it.

Children at that age usually worship their parents. They think their mothers and fathers are never going to leave them. They think their parents will live forever. They thought their parents were immortal. That’s what I thought, too.

I didn’t want to believe Mom when she told me you had passed away. I wanted you to walk through that door, all healed and all right. I wanted you to let me jump on your back and you run around the house like you were a horse, like we always did. I wanted you to still be alive. I wanted to see you.

But I didn’t. I didn’t know seeing you in the hospital was going to be the last time I’d ever saw you. I thought you were going to be fine. Everyone did, but we were all wrong. I missed a week of school because you left. My classmates made me cards and sent me their blessings.

I apologize for not going to your funeral. I just didn’t want to see you there in that casket. I didn’t want to see you dead. I was seven and I didn’t want to see something like that. Mom made me go to the memorial service, and I just sat there crying while the priest said some things that I don’t remember.

I wasn’t paying attention to what the priest was saying. I was paying attention to everyone else that was there. I was paying attention to that casket Mom said you were lying in. I was listening to my own thoughts: Wake up, Jessica. Don‘t cry. Your dad is alive. This is just a nightmare. Wake up.

Ten years later, I still think about you. There isn’t a day that goes by when you don’t cross my mind. People still tell me I look just like you. It’s funny, really. When you were alive, I didn’t see it at all. Now, I do. I have your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your chin, your hair, your long fingers, and your feet. Mom said when I was born, the first thing you saw was my feet and you said “Oh, that poor baby!”

I was so young when you died. Some people believe I don’t remember you, but they’re wrong. I remember you. After so many years, I still remember what your voice sounds like. I remember your joking attitude. I remember your love for your children.

I wonder what it would be like if you were still here. Everything would be different, but in a good way. Mom would have never married that stupid excuse for a human being. She’d still be with you, because she really loved you. If anyone she should have married, it should have been you.

You’re my dad. You’ll always be my dad. I know you’re in Heaven looking down at all of us. You still live in my memory. At least where you are now, you will never be hurt again. Your heart is all better, your soul is free, you’re smiling again, and you‘re carefree.

I love you. I know I rarely said it when you were alive, but I do. I love you, Dad. I will always love you. I will always miss you.

I will always remember you as my father: the strongest person I’ll ever know.

I will see you again when my time comes. I’ll meet you at the gate and I will embrace you. Can you cry tears of joy in Heaven? If you can, I’ll be crying a river. I will walk with you for eternity and never leave your side.

Until then, I will look at pictures of you, watch the memorial video Grandma made for you, and visit your grave. If I don’t cry, forgive me. If I do, just know it’s because I miss you. I will never forget you.

Rest in peace, Dad. Wait for me in Heaven. I’ll be waiting for you, too.