I miss him. I miss him on days like today. I miss him on spring days when the mushrooms are popping out and I want him to take me mushroom hunting. I miss him on days after a thunderstorm. We use to talk about how much rain he got. I miss him on days when my husband is fishing. I know he would love to see those fish. I miss him every summer when The Boy wishes out loud that his Grandpa could teach him how to hand fish. I miss him in the winter months when the snow is fresh and safe to go out rabbit hunting. I miss him on days when my car makes a funny noise and I can't just call him and describe it to him.
Thirteen years is a long time but some days it does not seem that he has been gone that long. The above photo was taken at my cousins wedding about two months before he passed away. I wish we had taken more photos. I wish I looked better in the photos we did take. The below photo was taken when my son was six-eight months old. Maybe about three months before he started to get sick. What is hard to think about some times is that in less than a year between the two photos, my Dad became sick and died.
More than anything, I wish my kids had had the opportunity to get to know him. The Boy was only 18 months old when he passed away. And The Short Chic. Well, she was nothing more than my wish for the future. I can say, through me they know some of his traits. I always thought I was going to grow up to be like my Mom, and in many ways I have. But I can be my Daddy's daughter at times; critical, short-tempered, and playful. So, he does live on, in spirit with us all.
Now, besides missing my Dad today, we have had one crazy Father's Day weekend. The Boy and his baseball team played in our State Championship Tournament. We played two games on Saturday; we won one and lost one. To be very honest, the boys did not play well. We went home Saturday with our heads low thinking we would compete in another tournament without success.
I woke up Sunday and sent a motivational text message to the boy. It said, "very few times in life you will be given a second chance. Hawks baseball has that rare chance today. You are better than you played yesterday. You have to want to bring home that trophy today. You have to make it happen. Not for us parents, but for yourselves. Go out, play hard, win big." Not bad for motivation at 6:14 a.m. even if I say so myself.
On the way to both games I said prayers. Saturday I prayed for a win. Sunday I prayed the boys would all play their best. And their best is what they played. We played two games. We won both. Every member of that team helped our team win their State Championship!
After the tournament, we went to have a picnic at a cute park behind one of our local Bass Pro Stores. The park is surrounded by water and it made for a muggy, humid, and super hot picnic. Of course The Short Chic did not seem to miss a beat. She ran from play equipment to play equipment. We watched The Husband fish around and we found a frog, geese and baby ducks.
To conclude, the day has been bittersweet. You can't help but think about your father on Father's Day. And I miss mine, a lot. The flip side of that, I am married to a wonderful man, who is a wonderful father and stepfather to my children. And to see your children have success on Father's Day is just icing on the cake.