So Far – Prologue
Okay, this is what I have so far….
Daddy’s death was a shock. Not in the fact that he died, but rather in the manner in which he died.
It wasn’t all rainbow-pooping unicorns where the dying patient simply slows their breathing and then stops altogether all the while looking like they just stepped off a magazine cover.
It was brutal, raw, loud, excruciating to watch and is now forever emblazoned on my heart and my brain.
In some ways, the heartbreak of watching him die was a lot like the heartbreak of watching him leave me when I was six years old.
The difference being that even at six I knew he was just a phone call away.
Now, his body lays in a grave in a national cemetery. Daddy was a U.S. Army veteran during peacetime, and he served because it was expected of him. He left when his four years were up, and he never looked back.
He did that a lot.
Never looking back.
The one exception was me.
He tried hard not to, from the moment when Mom told him she was pregnant and he responded with “Shit! I don’t want kids”, to the years he avoided being anything remotely resembling a father, he tried very hard.
I think by the time my half-sister came along, Daddy had resigned himself to the fact that sometimes you are a father like it or not.
Not that much effort went into her upbringing either.
Still, we loved him white hot and fierce because..well, because that’s what most little girls do. They worship, adore and love their daddies with complete abandon.
So, it was with us.
And, it made this journey so much harder than either of us thought it would be.
This isn’t a tribute to a doting father. This is a raw, real, sometimes funny, look at what it’s like to deal with an 8-yr. old who shaves.