This year instead of a birthday post ( I turn 52 today 6/30/22) I’ve decided to share a meaningful moment in my life.

This has been 42 years in the making. I finally morned my father on Father’s Day, June 19, 2022.

My father passed away when I was nine years old. His passing changed my life forever. I know saying that is cliché, but I went from standing on a firm foundation to free falling over night.

I was thrust into the role of an adult and was given responsibilities that were way beyond my years. I felt like I had to be the strong one in my family and chose to postpone mourning my father. I didn’t cry for him the day of his funeral, I held in my emotions and had a stomach ache all day instead.

To this day I hold my emotions in my stomach, that may be why I have irritable bowel syndrome ( TMI, I know).

I didn’t attend his funeral because my mother didn’t feel I was emotionally mature to handle it and I don’t blame her.

Life as I knew it changed so drastically after his funeral that I grew to becoming an expert at putting my feelings on hold.

Visiting my father’s gravesite was always on my to do list but I kept putting it off . I didn’t have the emotional capacity to cope with life without him and the finality of seeing his burial site. I just kind of tucked everything deep down inside.

When I started suffering from emotional overflow I began using alcohol to numb myself. This method of coping engulfed me and I wouldn’t dare visit my father as a full blown alcoholic

When I got sober, visiting my father’s gravesite was back on the top of my to do list. The hesitation this time is how big I made the the moment in my mind. I envisioned that it would be a transformative event and I would experience a metamorphosis into the person I would have been if my father had never died.

Finally, at 51 I decided to visit my father’s gravesite after my special someone said to me,

“Your father has been waiting all these years for you to come visit him.”

This statement so simple but yet so profound was what gave me the courage to let go of all my expectations and emotional build up and just “visit” my father.

It was a warm sunny day with a nice breeze. On the ride to the cemetery I emptied my mind and told myself that the moment will be whatever it’s going to be.

When I approached my father’s grave marker, I was happy to see a flag was planted by it. My father served in the Air Force during the Korean War and I forgot to bring a flag.

I stared at his grave marker and read it over and over again. It became real, my father is gone and I was standing at his final resting place.

Tears rolled down my face and I tried to gather myself and keep my composure. I finally just let go and broke down. In my mind I was apologizing to him for not coming to visit sooner, for wasting so much of my life being addicted to alcohol. I prayed that he was still proud of me and all that I have accomplished. I wanted him to know how much I missed him and how hard life has been without him.

When I couldn’t shed another tear, I made a plea to God that if the rules of heaven would allow it, that my father could come visit me in my dreams.

As I am writing this I have yet to hear from my father so I guess my request is not allowed.

A