May 12th 1992, my father passed away suddenly from a brain aneurysm, he was 43. I was 17 (2 weeks shy of my 18th birthday) and devastated. I think of him often, but always struggle during the month of May. I can't believe it will be 16 years since the last time I saw his face, but I have faith that I will see him again. What a joyous reunion that will be. I love you dad and miss you horribly.
Friday, May 9, 2008
In memory of my Father
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4 comments:
Melannie, I remember the day I met him and the day that your neighbor came to the store with the horrible news. I'm sorry that may is a struggle to get through for you, your family and your mom. Thank goodness for that reunion that awaits.
Wow, I'm sure you miss him immensely. Good luck this month Melannie!
I'm so sorry for your loss, and what you had to go through. I remember your Dad and what a great example he was. He did such a good job raising you, I'll always be in his debt for that.
I remember your father as a heart-of-gold man who loved his family, enjoyed good food and lots of laughter. I admired his strong testimony, his knowledge of the Gospel and Church History, and his interest in genealogy temple work for his ancestors. I have always been grateful that I had the privilege of getting to know him during my 14 years in the family before his sudden death. I will always remember with fondness a vacation our family took with Grandpa and Grandma in their motorhome and your family in your van not long before Randy died. I'm pretty sure the trip was to attend a family reunion. I remember driving through the Sierra Nevada mountains and trying to communicate vehicle to vehicle via CB radio or walkie-talkies. It was a fun trip.
I also remember at the funeral how much Kim and I wanted to help ease the pain of you and your siblings and your Mom. Sometimes words just aren't enough and the grieving process has to run its natural course in dealing with deep losses.
My family of origin was ripped apart when I lost my father when he was imprisoned as an MIA/POW for 5-1/2 years after being shot down over North Vietnam. After years of prayers by countless friends and family that he would return home, he was fortunate enough to be among those who returned home alive. Even so, my family was ripped apart again when my parents divorced after several years of struggling to make their marriage work. I was devastated then and am still dramatically affected by the ripples of this life altering event.
Of course, we are never the same after such a loss. We just learn that life goes on and we try the best we can to compensate for the gaping void in our lives and to live our lives in such as way as to warrant the genuine praise of those we miss so much.
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