Imperfect

Today I turned on an episode of “This is Us” to binge watch. I promised myself only one (so not a binge) because they make me emotional every time. I thought I could handle one today before I went off and did things on my to do list.

As the episode began to run I realized it was going to be a tough one. It was the one after the fire where we see how Jack (the father of the triplets) dies. I actually forwarded it through the first few minutes because I was afraid to watch -and it went on to some commercial and that commercial made me think about something and I went to check today’s date.

Oct 23- my dad died two years ago today. His death was sudden -as was Jacks who made it out of the fire only to die later in the episode.

So by now you know I watched the episode. I cried almost through the entire thing. A snotty nosed cry- not pretty.

It’s ok. I kept going because I think it helped me emote and sometimes as hard as that is it’s cathartic.

I miss my dad. A lot. And I often wonder why I miss him so. After all he was imperfect and he had his demons and he and I struggled in our relationship together. I guess I thought because of all of these issues I wouldn’t feel so much grief – that I would have missed him less.

But maybe it is because of these things I miss him more. There were things I lost with my dad. I didn’t have his adoration. Nor did he ever seem to get me -though he and I are so much alike but I only saw it after he died. I can’t blame him for not seeing me as being like him if I didn’t see it either. I spent years not wanting to be like him. And yet… here I am.

We fought a lot. I spent too much time being mad at him. Much less as I aged but I was mad sometimes. I didn’t understand his drinking problem. I didn’t see why he thought he was fine. I worried it would kill him. And in a way I guess it did. He lived to 81 but maybe with less drinking he’d still be here. But that we will never know.

I wanted him to get me. Be proud of me. Later I would realize he was but didn’t show it to me very often. I heard it from others later.

I wondered why he held back praise to me. But as a parent I’ve done the same sometimes to my kids and I have no idea why. See I told you I am like my dad. But I’m trying to praise my kids more. When I see things I want to change I own them and try to do better.

Sometimes my dad seemed mad at me. I didn’t always know why and sometimes I did. We danced all over with each-other never getting the right rhythm. But I’d gladly take one more off kilter dance with him.

Relationships have so many facets and that’s what I had with my dad. I have so many quick snips of memories. Some sad, some not great, some funny as hell, and some so wonderful.

My dad walking me down the aisle at my wedding. I see him looking up the staircase at me (I had a long one to traverse on high heels. On wooden steps). I was praying I’d make it down alive -and I see my dad watching me he’s smiling brightly (at me!) -and his arm is outstretched and his hand wide open ready to take my hand. Step by step I made my way down each step feeling stronger when I finally had his hand. Hand in hand we made our way to Kevin. I got that memory. Some people never get that.

I remember him taking me homecoming dress shopping in 9th grade. I’d been grounded for four weeks — I deserved it. But he shortened it so I could go to the dance with a boy who had asked me. He took me to the mall. (My mom and he were separated at the time and I lived with my dad and my brother.) We went to David’s Village Shop. I knew I had a short period of time before he got impatient but oddly he let me get through a few dresses as he stood awkwardly in the shop. And I only needed to try a few as I found “the one” in that bunch. I got that memory and some people never get that.

I miss hearing him say “How’s Annie today?” I even miss hearing him joke “picked up any horse shit today Annie? “.

I just miss him.

My imperfect father. One thing for sure was that he was always there. Call him and miss him. He’d call you back not long after. I didn’t always confide in him but sometimes I just needed to hear his voice. I’d listen to his rant of the day or a bad joke. Just to listen.

You don’t have to be the perfect human for people to miss you when you leave. God knows I have too many things I’d like to do over. It’s part of life. It’s the hindsight’s 20/20 cruel joke.

My dad could sometimes take imperfect to a perfect level. But we are all trying to figure this freakish world out. My dad was my dad and he meant the world to me.

Two imperfect people just trying to get the dance right.

Miss and love you Dad….always.

Dad and I in 1964

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