This time of year is always funny for me. My dad passed away on June 19th, 1992, when I was three years old. Sadly enough this date tends to coincide with Father’s Day, either within the same few days or sometimes it lands on the day itself.
Personally I find it an odd situation as I was so little when he passed away. I grew up with my brother and my mom, and that was our family. My entire life has been fatherless so I don’t know what I’m missing, I guess. I do feel a tinge of jealousy when my friends are close with their dads, and I admit I cried in Grease when Frenchy says “the only man a girl can depend on is her daddy”. But overall I was fortunate to grow up happy and healthy within a loving family, and doing so with just my mom taught me a lot about being an independent, badass, get-shit-done type of woman.
Still, I do think about my dad a lot and wonder how differently I would have turned out had he been around. I wonder what kind of relationship we would have, and I wonder if he would be proud of me. If he could see me now, would he recognize my strengths and respect my virtues and be proud of the woman I’m growing up to be? Continue reading