It happens to be the 5 year anniversary of the passing of Jamie. I don't know how it has been that long. I do know that the pain hasn't lessened much though it is easier to breathe now than it was in May 2014. I still, we all still, miss him every day. We think about him, we talk about him, and he lives on. Through our love. Although I still get sad to think that he has passed, I do always smile with my memories of him. I hear his very specific annunciation of words, a sort of mixed dialect of accents. I hear his laugh, especially every time Todd makes a joke. Each time I cook a recipe he would like, or play a game he loved to play. 5 years he is gone, yet he is never, ever far from where we are.
I use that as a lesson, I guess. Dad's only been gone three weeks. Three weeks today. The pain is still severe. I very often still have an inability to breathe, and I still breakdown into tears for what seems like no reason at all. His death remains surreal. I will forget at times, then be stabbed by the reality of it as if there is an actual knife in my heart. I know it won't get better. I know it won't ever hurt less. I do hope it does get a little easier to live without him. And, I know, like Jamie, he will live on in my heart.
Decker and I have a bedtime routine. I ask him a series of a questions, he answers, then I kiss him goodnight. It started when he got upset that I was leaving the room even though he was ready to go to bed. I told him "I leave the bedroom, but I am still with him." Then the routine started. It goes like this:
Me: What kind of sleep do I want you to get?
Him: GOOD NIGHT SLEEP
Me: What kind of dreams do I want you to have?
Him: SWEET DREAMS
Me: How much do I love you?
Him: SO MUCH
Me: Where do I stay when I leave the room?
Him: IN MY HEART
Me: For how long?
Him: FOREVER AND EVER
This is a routine I cherish. His brother's think it is cute, too and were disappointed to learn it was never a part of their routine (we had our own things.) But, when dad died, these ending lines became so relevant. It was how I explained to Decker what it meant that Pop-Pop had died. It was part of the explanation that we couldn't see Pop-Pop any more, we couldn't talk to him, but just like when I leave your room at night, he is in our hearts forever and ever. Decker liked it. So, did I. I am not sure if the message was for him or for me. Maybe both. Probably all of us.
There's no doubt he is with me every day, but it doesn't change the fact that I miss him, terribly. I love you, dad, You're in my heart forever and ever!
Here are the words I spoke at his funeral.
"My dad played tennis against Arthur Ashe. He threw a football, with nothing less than perfect spiral, over the roof of the neighbor’s house to win the throwing contest. He was the American Legion batting champ. He hit more homeruns than, well, everyone. He didn’t start playing tennis until high school and, yet, still managed to excel quickly and become a full-scholarship athlete before going on to become a tennis pro. We’ve all heard these stories. We’ve heard them repeatedly over the years, even here today. We have heard them so many times that you all know how each one ends. But, the funny thing is, I realize now that this repetition, it was for us, so that we would never forget the stories, forget his legacy- Not then, and certainly not now that we won’t be able to hear him tell them anymore.
There is no denying it- my dad was a great athlete. But, as I tell my sons as they aspire towards their own athletic dreams, “the athlete does not make the man. The man makes the athlete. Character will always trump skill, hard work will always beat out talent.” And, that is the summary of my dad. He may have talked a boastful game, and his “Successes” certainly grew as he got older, but they were just the stories. In life, he was humble and kind. He never let his talents be enough, he never rested on them nor took them for granted. He worked HARD for everything. He practiced tirelessly and never stopped learning or improving. When I was growing up, he insisted on that same level of work and practice from me, his poetic and scattered daughter, and he was the reason I had success in many things. Because he pushed me. He studied with me. He made sure that I got in my hundred pitches a day, along with my wrist flips and the weight lifting, even though I would have rather been talking to my friends on the phone. It was 10pm and there was 6 ft. of snow outside, it didn’t matter, he handed me a pair of boots, and said the weight of the snow would be good resistance for my legs and would help me become a faster pitcher. He was right, of course. Though I never had his level of discipline, I admired his determination and his ethic, was grateful for his belief in me and I never, ever wanted to let him down.
I was fortunate because my dad was my team’s coach, so all of my friends knew him He was the coach for all the pick-up games in the neighborhood and cheered everyone on as we swung for the fences. He always made it a point to know the important people in my life, even as an adult. I spoke to him almost daily and though he always wanted to first know how I was doing, and Todd, and what each of the boys were up to, he would also always ask about different friends of mine and just had a genuine interest in their lives. He loved people, and a friend of mine was a friend of his. He had a nickname, or a quip, or an antecdote, for just about everyone. Most of you are probably repeating his one liner about you right now.
I was daddy’s little girl, literally right up until Monday. I may be in my 40’s and have a slew of boys who call me mom, but don’t be fooled, I am still daddy’s little girl who cried in his arms until his very last breath. I looked up to him my entire life. When I was a kid I walked around the basement in his University of Maryland letterman jacket. Wearing it, I felt like the champion I knew he was. I wanted to grow up to be just like him- Though I didn’t follow his exact path, his footsteps were just too big to fill and I was never any good at tennis, I find that I am just like him in all of the ways I didn’t expect - like Every time I can’t find my keys, or when I triple check for my wallet that is exactly where I left it- and, each time I repeat a story or a forget a name, or use 5 stirrers to stir my Wawa coffee, I am reminded that I have, if nothing else, his charming aloofness. But, I hope to be even a little bit like him in all of the ways that made him special.
He was kind, and gentle, and simple. He was funny, and silly, and found himself to be quite amusing. He was determined and focused in the areas he chose to be and never slowed down in his commitment to working towards excellence.He was a man of great character, deep loyalty, and strong conviction. He was a champion, right up til the end. He loved his work, his family, his friends, and his patients, and lead a life of decency. He has always guided me, my moral compass was always aligned to his, he was always my North star.
I get sick when I think that my dad is no longer here to help lead me, or to be a part of the memories and the laughs. My heart breaks when I think how Decker, my youngest son, will need the help of his brothers and all of us around him to even remember my dad. I cry as I realize that I can’t give him a hug or throw a ball with him or hear one of his many impersonations. Though the pain is insufferable, without me even realizing it, my dad prepared me for THIS day, the day I would have to continue on without him, my entire life. By filling my heart with support and encouragement and unconditional love, he prepared me. By teaching me that hard work is the only work and excellence can be achieved, he prepared me. By modeling kindness and gratitude and generosity, he prepared me. By finding the lighter side of things and making me laugh he prepared me. By always putting his wife, his children, his family first, he prepared me. By building my character on the foundation of his own, he- prepared- me - For this day- for this time- when I would no longer have him here with me, he prepared me and gave me everything I need to move forward, he imparted it in my brain and cultivated it in my heart, and I know he will always be with me, and my children.
Our lives are better because you were in it, dad, I love you so! "
