9 Years Ago Today

"Grief is its own thing. It’s not like it’s in me, and I’m going to deal with it. It’s a thing, and you have to be okay with its presence. If you try to ignore it, it will be like a wolf at your door.” - Stephen Colbert

Nine years ago today, we lost my dad. There isn't a day that goes by I don't wish he was still here. Today I choose to remember how lucky I was to have the best dad a girl could ask for. 

Hole in My Heart

I went to the Jewel concert this weekend in Detroit and found myself missing my dad and boo-hooing in the audience when she played her song, Shape of You.  Her delivery of the song is beautiful, but it was the lyrics that suckerpunched me. If you've lost someone you love, you know it quite perfectly captures the longing that is always present.

Lyrics: Shape of You - Jewel

September settled softly
Leaves are starting to fall
I recall, last time you were here
Your laughter a melody that lingers still

There's a hole in my heart
And I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There's this longing lonesome and deep
Kind of bitter, kind of sweet
There's a hole in my heart in the shape of you

Time stealing swiftly
Children having children of their own
And around life's merry-go round goes
And there you are wanting what you cannot hold

There's a hole in my heart
And I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There's this longing lonesome and deep
Kind of bitter, kind of sweet
There's a hole in my heart in the shape of you

Even though my heart aches
There's a smile on my face
Just like a window to heaven
There's a light shining through

This hole in my heart so I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There's this longing lonesome and deep
Kind of bitter, kind of sweet
There's a hole in my heart
There's a hole in my heart
There's a hole in my heart in the shape of you

Happy Birthday Dad

Happy 56th birthday, dad. Miss you always.

Hits You Like a Truck

Everything is seemingly going great today and then this song comes on. Usually, it's Journey that makes me think of my Dad but sometimes there is nothing like a gut wrenching country song to send you right over the edge. It's normal to cry at noon on Wednesdays right? :)

I come by it honestly though. We went to a wedding of a long time family friend this weekend. She was dancing with her dad and I looked over at my family to see that we were all glassy eyed. My dad was probably looking down at us shaking his head. Yeah right, who am I kidding? He would have been bawling too.

Miss you dad.

Happy Birthday Dad!

My dad would have celebrated his 54th birthday today. In honor of him, I wanted to share this sweet little video of a dad and his daughter singing a song together. Could she be any cuter?

It brings back wonderful memories of me and my dad's relationship with music. He loved Classic Rock n' Roll from the 70's. I remember him giving me my very first Fleetwood Mac cassette tape to listen to. I still love them to this day.

When we would ride together in his truck, he would always play the drums on the dashboard and say "Cole, who sings this?" He was always quizzing me, even through college. If I didn't know the answer, I would usually say "Fred Bear." :)

Miss you and love you always, Dad. Happy birthday.

Dad on Facebook?

The other day, I noticed a funny post on Facebook from the daughter of one of my dad's long time friends. She was trying to teach him how to use Facebook and he ended up leaving a message for another friend saying how much he had enjoyed their class reunion. I got such a kick out of it.

It made me smile because I started to think about whether my dad would have used Facebook. I pictured myself bugging him to try it so he could look at pictures and keep in touch with people. He may have humored me and looked at a few photos, but computers were not his thing. I used to laugh because on the rare occasion he would get on the computer, he would chicken peck the keyboard with one finger, saying each letter aloud as he went along.

I bet if my dad did have a Facebook profile, he would have posted a few pictures like the one above. He loved to reminisce and reliv sports moments from high school so I can imagine him picking a few out of his boxes and excitedly saying "Here Cole, put this one up!" Even though I always loved hearing those stories, I would have teased him by saying "Okay Uncle Rico" and we would have had a good laugh together. :)

Belated

Two pretty significant days have come and gone and I am behind on my posts as usual. May 23rd marked the 6 year anniversary of my dad's passing and Father's Day was just this past Sunday. With the two dates being so close, it can feel like quite the sucker punch some years.

Upon returning from vacation and catching up on the blogs I follow, I was inspired by a sweet little tribute somebody did for their dad. It was just the nudge I needed to begin writing. She ended her post with "However fathers get assigned in the world, I am sure glad I got you." There isn't a statement that could sum it up any better for me.

The photos above are some of my favorite memories with my dad. He was a wrestling coach so we were always roughhousing. For those of you that know me, you know this little series sums up my childhood pretty well. The photos never fail to bring a smile to my face.

Miss you so much, Dad. Happy belated Father's Day.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today would have been my dad's' 53rd birthday. He wouldn't have agreed, but I bet he would have been as handsome as ever.

This photo is from my wedding. He was sporting his Father of the Bride baseball cap. I'm so thankful I bought it for him because I think he really loved it. He was most comfortable when he was wearing a hat. Silly guy...I miss him every day.

Has It Really Been 5 Years?

Today marked the 5 year anniversary of my dad's passing. I was planning to recall the events and emotions from that terrible day but am finding that I just can't right now. I'm enjoying the ripples of happiness from my last post and can't bring myself to head down that path of sad memories. It's very heavy. Too heavy... But it's never far away in my mind so maybe its a post for another day.

For now, I will simply say that I miss him. I miss him so much that sometimes I can't breathe. I long to have him walk into a room and light the whole place up with laughter and happiness again. I long for him to harrass me when I'm procrastinating or have him beg me to scratch his back. I wish we could go golfing together on Father's Day or hang out as a family at my brother's cottage. I wish I could lean my head on his shoulder or hear him yell at my me and my brother for roughhousing. There's just so much to miss. I know he's never far away from my heart but sometimes it doesn't feel like enough.

Meet My Pops

This list is far from complete, but it starts to get at the essence of my dad through my eyes. Here are just a few of the things I loved (and miss) about my dad.

• He was the life of every party he went to. He loved to make people laugh.
• He and my mom were high school sweethearts. They had a great marriage full of good times.
  
• He loved to tell stories about his glory days in high school.
  
• He loved to watch any movie or television documentary about animals. To this day, the Notario family favorites are Old Yeller, The Man from Snowy River and The Wilderness Family.
  
• He was definitely a beer guy. The image of him that always comes to my mind is the one I would see when I would pull in our driveway. He's standing in the garage with one of his buddies and has a beer in his hand. He always had to keep beer in the fridge for this very occasion. He couldn't get much done in the yard without someone stopping over.
  
• When I was playing in sporting events, he would make flailing hand signals to me from the sidelines. I would flail my arms back at him because I often had no idea what he was trying to tell me.
  
• He loved nothing more than to sit at a bonfire all night with his friends and dogs.
• He loved to watch Michigan football. When he got sick, Lloyd Carr and Bo Schembechler both signed a football helmet for him. It was really special to him.
  
• He wasn't a religious guy, but when he said something "bad" he would look up and say "sorry lord." I always thought it was cute.
  
• His handwriting was silly. He wrote really slowly and used lots of funny curly cues. I got accused of forging his signature in fourth grade because the teacher didn't believe my dad wrote like that.
  
• He had the same group of friends since middle and high school. Crazy bunch of guys...
  
• He couldn't say no to anyone. People would call him to do things and he would kindly tell them no problem. After he hung up the phone, he'd shake his head and say "Why the hell did I say yes to that?" Unfortunately, I adopted this lovely quality too.
  
• If we got bumps and bruises, he used to tell us to "spit on it and rub it in."
• He was a wrestling coach to a lot of elementary and middle schoolers for 25 years. I loved to watch him coach because he was so excitable, but really patient and caring. My brother coached too and very much takes after him.
  
• He was kind to animals. He used to raise homing pigeons when we were little. He said he was going to do it again someday but didn't get the chance.
• He was a nervous nellie. My mom says that if they were at a party or family gathering nobody had to pay attention to what their kids were doing because they knew my dad was keeping track of everyone.
  
• He called himself a factory rat. He was loyal to Ford for 27 years and was very much looking forward to being able to retire.
• On Saturday afternoons, after relaxing on his Lazyboy, my mom would pull in the driveway from work and he would jump up to act like he was cleaning the house. He would start unloading the dishwasher and I would start vacuuming. We had the routine down.
• It took a lot to make my dad mad but when he finally did raise his voice you knew you had pushed things too far.
  
• For some silly reason, he was really self conscious about going bald. He never went anywhere without wearing a baseball hat so I bought him one that said Father of the Bride to wear at my wedding reception. He really loved it.
  
• He loved to listen to classic rock. He would always play the drums on his dashboard while he was driving. He always used to quiz me on who sang the songs. To this day, I can't really listen to Journey or Fleetwood Mac without tearing up and missing him like crazy.
• When my brother would get too cocky, my dad would wrestle him and put him in really painful moves like the guillotine. He always said, "Remember, you'll never be stronger than me!" It always made my brother laugh.
  
• He drank too much one Saturday and let me and my friend paint him up in full makeup. I'll have to find that picture and post it someday. You could do or say anything to him when he drank to much.
  
• He cared very much about providing for my grandma and grandpa. He did anything to make sure they had what they needed.
  
• We watched Saturday Night Live together and laughed at the same stuff. We were the only ones in our family who got it.
  
• Every year he would get a bonus from work. He would always give us a gift of money to play with and write a really sweet message in a card about how proud he was of us.

Ah, I could go on and on but I suppose I will save more memories for another post. It's so nice to remember...

Someone Who Understands

I just got home a few hours ago from a really nice dinner with my friend, Lisa. Our friendship is a special one, as I met her when I was in high school working as her accounting assistant at the Tuffy headquarters. We had a ten year age gap, but we clicked instantly. We spent the entire summer laughing until our bellies ached and became great friends along the way. Our paths in life seem to intersect when we both need it most.

It's always cathartic to talk with her because unfortunately we share the same experience of losing our dads. Both were lovable Italian guys and I think it's safe to say we were both daddy's girls. Sadly, both of our dads suffered from a quick downhill spiral after their unexpected cancer diagnoses. It feels like we are members of a club that neither of us wanted to join. Lisa and I lost contact for awhile as we were both going through our separate experiences. I wish I could have been there for her as she probably wishes the same. She lost her dad four years before I did and in many ways, she gave me hope that I would be okay eventually. That I would always miss him, but would find a way to smile at the memories again. Now when we get together, I enjoy sharing stories of the signs I get that let me know my dad is still with me. She's had some pretty great signals too. It's just nice to talk with someone who understands the loss. Thanks for listening, Lisa! Don't know what I'd do without you. :)

Happy Birthday Dad!

He would have been 52 today... Man, I'd give anything to give him a present and hear, "Is this all I get?"

This is a photo taken right after my high school baccalaureate ceremony. Can you see where I get my rosy cheeks from?

Why Blog About Something So Personal?

Four years ago, on May 23, 2004, I lost my dad to an eight month battle with cancer. My dad was my hero, and it was an event that flipped my whole world upside down. It was the first major loss in my family and nothing has been quite the same since it happened.

I consider myself to be a strong person, and have been processing the loss for quite some time on my own. While I am plodding along as expected, I have for a long time felt the need to create an outlet where I can process my feelings about his life and his death. As a result, I have decided to create this blog for the following reasons:

• Because you never stop missing them. It goes without saying there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of my dad. Some days it is all I can think about. Some days it comes in waves. Some days it is a smaller nagging ache. Nevertheless, I couldn't have imagined you could miss someone so much.
  
  
• Because people eventually stop asking. Don't get me wrong, my friends are the absolute best, but there comes a day when people forget that you have suffered a great loss in your life. Sometimes you feel like everyone in the world has moved on but you. It's no longer the first thing people ask you about in conversation or the cards slowly stop rolling in on the anniversary of his death... Life moves on as it should, but sometimes the pain doesn't move as quickly. Sure, the intensity of the grief lessens with time, but there is still a need to talk about things, process your feelings, and relive happy memories. Here is where I hope to do that.
  
  
• Because the only comfort I had was knowing I wasn't alone...A few months after I lost my dad, I bought a book titled, "On Grieving the Death of a Father" by Harold Ivan Smith. The book recalls the accounts of many people as they navigate through experiences with the passing of their fathers; regret, funerals, hearing the news, the anniversary, and more. It helped me to grieve because I could relate to so much in every story. It forced me to feel the emotions I was trying to stuff away. As I was reading it, I found myself wanting to write my story as well. This blog will mainly be for my own reflection, but it would be fine if someone else finds a little comfort in knowing they aren't alone in their grief.
  
  
• Because I'm terrible at scrapbooking...One of the things that causes me the most sadness is knowing my future children will not have the joy of knowing my dad as their grandpa. I can't begin to imagine how I will tell them the story of his life in any way that will do justice to the relationship they might have had. By the time I have children, I'm sure they will be accessing the Internet at birth, so this is where I hope to collect the stories, pictures and memories of his life. Besides, I have boxes and boxes of pictures I was supposed to scrapbook eight years ago. I'm surrendering to the fact that it's just not my forte.
  
  
• Because sometimes I fear I'll forget the little things...As the years go by now, there are days I worry tremendously about forgetting all of the little things I loved about my dad. I know it sounds silly, because you never really do forget, but it really does worry me. Some days I struggle to remember what his voice sounded like when he laughed or the nervous look on his face when he walked me down the aisle at my wedding. I know you never forget, but it gives me comfort to know I'll have a place to capture those little things when I need to.

So with that, I'd just like to say thanks in advance for listening. I hope you will enjoy hearing about my dad as much as I loved having him in my life.