It Still Hits Me

It still hits me at odd times that my dad is gone. It's been 5 years since he was diagnosed with lung cancer. 4.5 years since he died. And it still can blindside me.

I've been listening to individual artist's libraries in my iTunes account, whereas I usually just randomize it. I went through Imogen Heap, and then Mute Math, and then skipped to Sarah McLachlan.

The summer of 2004, my friends got me tickets to see Sarah in L.A. for my birthday. My sister in law made the arrangements, and bought a ticket for my dad, because he loved Sarah as well. A little while after that, he was diagnosed, and when the concert came around in July, he was in the middle of chemo and couldn't make the 3 hour trip to L.A. to attend.

We had an amazing time at the concert. Picked up by a limo, dropped right on the corner at the Staples Center, great seats.

And at the end of the concert, I just cried and cried. He wasn't there, he missed it, and I knew even then that it meant something bad. I felt like if he was there, then things were going to work out. He would beat it, and I'd have him around.

They gave him 6 months, and he made it almost to the day of that. 2 days short of Halloween, but he got to see his granddaughters' costumes. 10 days short of his 65th birthday. 25 days short of his 39th wedding anniversary. 5 months short of celebrating 30 years of sobriety. And at least 20 years short of seeing his granddaughters walk down the aisle, which he really looked forward to.

So I sit here tonight, listening to Sarah McLachlan, remembering my dad. And the music is beautiful. And at the same time, it is just too painful to hear.