The Anniversary of a Death

Today is the third anniversary of my father's death.

My dad wasn't a great man or a well known man. He was pretty average. Spending 20 years in the Navy, moving his family from state to state every few years, he did what he could to make life comfortable for his wife and three children. He was born to a generation which viewed smoking as the cool thing to do. When smoking was discovered to be very harmful his generation so firmly entrenched in it's unforgiving addictive clutches many could not get out. My father was one of those people. He enjoyed his smoking and didn't quit until he had to.

My father never struck me as a religious person. This was in direct contrast to my mother. He was the stabilizing force within the family while Mom was out there with Jesus. He taught his children to always walk with our head up, to show people that we weren't afraid. He taught us to agree to disagree when appropriate and to think for ourselves. He also taught us to always question authority, an attribute which helped me overcome my religious indoctrination. I admired him because he was his own man and did within his limited ability to provide for his family.

Fast forward to April 2004. He had been nursing a persistent cough for several months so his primary care doctor finally gave him a chest x-ray. This revealed a huge tumor in the top of his right lung. On September 16, 2004 he passed away after suffering through a very short time of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. He died early that morning in my sister's living room with my mother sleeping close to his side.

It seems so long ago. Sometimes I think, "Did it really happen?" I dream about him often and in my dreams I realize that he's gone forever and that I must make the most of seeing him in this way. He seems not to care that he's dead, although we don't discuss it, and he's always happy. When my dream ends I wake up sobbing; missing him so much. Although I'll never see him again, he lives on in my memories and in my heart. I am the person I am because of him, he was instrumental in the formation of my personality and my morals. I miss him very much and my best tribute to him is to be a good person and stand up for myself as he taught me. Although he might be disappointed that I'm an atheist, he would be proud that I exhausted all avenues of research before I came to this conclusion and that I'm still searching just to make sure.