It's interesting for me how passing through particular seasons / dates of the year brings memories and emotions flooding in. Today's one of those times for me.
Pampa Fraig, as we've come so affectionately to call him (after the kids' nickname for him) would have been 60 years old today.
I'm sure that anyone who has lost a parent or loved one prematurely (is there really such a thing?) can attest to how passing through those 'would-have-been' milestones can be particularly heart-wrenching -- dwelling on how unfair life can be, what a waste such a loss seems, and all of the 'what-if' and 'if-only' scenarios that can seem impossible to purge from your mind.
There are many things about my father in which I am very secure: that he was a good man; that he loved his family fiercely and unselfishly; and that he had a valuable, meaningful existence on this earth.
It's those things that I'm not so sure about that make me feel his absence more intensely on days like this: What more could I have learned from and about him? What opportunities to grow closer have now dematerialized? How might my children's lives have been further enriched by his love, influence, and wisdom? What dreams and aspirations of his own might he have accomplished had he lingered longer?
Knowing that earthly life if not the end helps soothe some of the sting -- the assurance that many of these wishes and wants might only be delayed, rather than missed out on completely. But there still exists the element of wishing that these benefits and joys might have been experienced in our mortal existence, to help us along and perhaps make us richer participants in this life.
Fortunately, these occasional periods of yearning and sadness are eventually replaced with innumerable fond memories, the persistence of the love that still exists between us, and the anticipation of being reunited one day.
(OK, now I promise I'm done sounding like the 'self-help' section of the Ensign. Sorry, folks...)
So on this day, Craig's 60th, I'm incredibly thankful to have been blessed with the wonderful father that he was, and continues to be, through the knowledge, advice, and ideals he imparted to me.
I can only hope that I might be even a shadow of the father he was to me.
May the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups rain from the sky, and may Coca-Cola fill all of the fountains of heaven! At least for today...
Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you.
4 comments:
awe...im gonna cry. i need to go call my dad and tell him i love him. (ps. you are a beautiful writer, you ought to contribute more often!) did you know that dean is the only one of the inlaws in my family who's dad is still living? i can't picture an existence without Ron barking orders at everyone.
Thanks for that homage to your Dad Chris. We love you.
It did make me cry!!! Thanks alot! It was good to read that. Your dad was a great man.
Chris - You are a great writer. Your Dad was such a good man and you and your family are evidence of his lasting influence. He certainly left too soon and those anniversary days will be hard for a long time. How nice to know that he lives on and we just have to be patient. I wish I could have had more opportunities to enjoy his presence. My thoughts are with you. Lynn
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