I'd almost forgotten that today was Father's Day--not one of my favorites. At least on Mother's Day I can call my grandma. But on Father's Day I don't have my Dad to call anymore or any of my grandpas since they're all deceased. That's what makes it so hard. But I call my sister today and that makes me feel a little better--well as good as it can get when the person I really want to talk to isn't here to talk to anymore.
I was six and rollerskating in my front driveway making a big U over and over again, when my mom came out to get me and tell me Papa (my dad's dad) had died. Then we both sat on the step in our garage crying. I didn't even take off my roller skates and my mom didn't bother trying to take them off. I don't know how long we sat there, but it was a long while.
When Dad died, my sister and I were both there. We were in a hospital room with lots of machines and lots and lots of big decisions to make. And of course lots of tears I wouldn't wish that on anyone. It was the absolute worst.