Making Peace With Dad at the First Christmas After His Passing
My dad passed away in November. His death was not a shock to me as he was 88 years old. That he died before we could resolve some lingering issues between us seemed unfair.
Although I had every opportunity to set things straight, I didn't, and that's on me.
Dad and I had one of those relationships where we never seemed to be in sync. My dad was a good guy, a hard worker, and did everything humanly possible to care for my mother and their two sons. That was a pretty tall order at times.
I wrote a piece about my dad after his death. Many of you read it, and I appreciate it.
Because time and distance separated dad and me at the time of his passing, I hoped that by writing my feelings, he would get the message that I was grateful for all he had done for us and that I loved him, even though I never told him.
Dad died in California. There was no service, and I didn't get to see him off.
On Christmas Eve, my cousin Susan handed me a stack of old photos she had found while rummaging through some storage bins that belonged to her mother – my Aunt Eileen – who passed away several years ago.
I took the photos and put them in a plastic bag, thanked Susan, and told her I'd look at them when I got home.
Long after everyone else had gone to bed, I emptied the plastic bag and began sifting through the old family photos. In the plastic bag, I found an 8x10 gold frame containing my parents' wedding photo taken in 1955.
The gold picture frame had seen better days and the glass that protected the cherished photo was cracked. As I removed the picture from the broken frame, I discovered two additional photographs behind it.
One of the photos was my older brother Robin's baby picture, taken in 1956. The other was my dad's baby picture from 1934.
No one, let alone me, was aware of the existence of my dad's photo in that frame. In fact, I had never seen his baby picture before.
I think my dad read my article. I think we are finally at peace.