Dear Daddy (yes I am a southern girl and he will always be my "daddy"
Today is your birthday. You would have been 99 today. I especially thought of it when there was a picture of a lady who is 100 today. Her picture shows her to be healthy and vibrant. That is something you would not be today.
Your body was still going fairly strong. I guess all those days of being a postal carrier who was on foot delivering the mail to each and every home was certainly good for your health. Your poor knees - not so much. I remember how much you really loved that career. Your patrons loved you too.
You said you didn't like dogs, and I thought that was because I am sure you had to deal with more than your fair share of them. But in actuality, you had dogs on your route that you loved and they returned the love. They would join you along your walks. The love you showed to our dogs was evident!
You have been gone for six years now, but you were gone long before that. The mind was ravaged by dementia. You weren't the same. You never got mean like so many with dementia do, but the real you was hidden so far down - if it even existed anymore.
I still miss you each and every day. I don't find myself deciding to be sure to remember something to tell you - as often. I don't have the feeling that something will happen (the phone calls) at 5:30 every Saturday. Those things have faded some. But there is always something that makes me think of you.
When I think of all the things you experienced in your life, I wonder what you really thought of our country. You saw so many changes - things that people didn't dream of. I never asked you that question. But then I was so stupid that I didn't ask you many questions, and I didn't listen well when you talked about things from the past. I am paying for that now. I want to know more about the family. I have so many questions that I will never find the answer for.
Yes, today would have been 99. I firmly believe you are in a much better place. Your last years, while relatively safe for you, were not happy ones. You were the escape artist of the memory unit. You really kept them on their toes. But as time went on, you gave up. I could see you deteriorate rapidly.
Once the sharp dresser - you looked like a bum. Sorry - but you did. I know they did a lousy job on your clothes. I had to give up trying to do your clothes myself. The incontinence was just too much for me. I would have to do three or four loads a week. Your hygiene also had slipped. I suppose those ladies did as much as they could. I know they were working for peanuts, so I have to be glad they did what they could. I wish I could have had you here with me. I guess it's really no excuse, but I just couldn't keep up. Once again - you wandered too much.
So, Happy Birthday Daddy. I so miss you.
3 comments:
Oh GK, what a very lovely tribute. Your father would LOVE this letter. I'm sure he's getting some sense of it.
You hit the nail on the head with all the things you said; especially about wanting to ask so many more questions. I know that I miss being someone's daughter very much.
Happy Birthday to your daddy. He raised a wonderful daughter.
Very poignant post. So much of it hits home with me. My father suffered a stroke and was never the same. He passed two years later and my mother went 2-1/2 months after he did. She, too, suffered from dementia for many years. Life is so unfair for those of us left behind.
I called my father Daddy also and I am from Michigan. My Daddy was sharp as a tack mentally--thenk God--and has been gone 3 years--he would have been 95 this last week. What a nice tribute to your Daddy.
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