Tomorrow is my dad’s 73 birthday. He has been gone now for almost 13 years, and I still miss him everyday. I never knew what to get dad for his birthday as he was impossible to shop for. I can’t tell you a single gift I gave him, but he usually received some silly card with a bad pun in it, and they were usually signed, “Love, Your Rodden Kid, Liane”
We had a routine, dad and I. My “rodden” dad and his “rodden” kid. I have no idea how it started, but I still remember smiling over the phone with dad when I called him that. I knew my mom loved me, but my dad was my hero for a long time. He let me ride on his lap when he drove the tractor. He took me fishing. My dad drove me to almost every Children’s Hospital visit, and to all the eye doctor appointments in Vancouver. He was there in hospital with me, every time I experienced diabetic problems. He was my go-to guy.
Dad taught me all those things that dads teach: How to ride a bike, drive a rusty truck, plumb a sink. Now, he had flaws, as all of us humans do, but it took me a very long time to see them. I loved him though. He pushed me to think, to debate, to dream, how to reach and how to fail. He was proud of me, and got better at saying it as he got older. He suffered through so many trials and tribulations with me, but he was always, always in my corner.
I miss my dad. some days, I miss him so much, it hurts. I can talk about him for longer now without crying, and I can finally write about him. I don’t think I will ever be done grieving for my dad, but I wanted to share him with you, on this, the eve of his 73 birthday. Love you, dad.