The SBP Archives - Your less than frequent dose of SBP!

Life ended for my Dad.  I was 4 years old and have few memories of him.  I think I know what his voice sounded like: I have one phrase in my memory where he says "Oh, they had too many strawberries".  My sister and I went strawberry picking and ate more than we collected and got sick.  Never touched a strawberry again until I was a teenager.  Was that voice real or imagined?  The day you died, I remember our next door neighbor playing Lego with me and Kylie to keep us occupied.  I also remember walking into your bedroom, with mom's back against the window, surrounded by people I didn't know.  It was like she was being interrogated or something, although that could have been just a figment of my imagination.  The saddest part of the whole night was that I learned as an adult not everything was done to keep you alive.  Mom tried to call the base emergency number and no one answered.  Mom also tried to call the doctor who lived up the street.  He showed up later than late, not believing mom that there was a real emergency on hand.  You were 35 years old.  It hit me three years ago that I've outlived you on earth.  How can I possibly be older than you now, Dad?  It doesn't make sense or seem right.  I could go on and on about this, but this is what life dealt us.  Of course I'll always wonder what my life would be like if you were still here, but things turned out okay in the end.  I think about how mom did a great job raising two kids by herself.  If there's something waiting for us when our life on earth ends, I hope you will be there waiting for me.  We can talk hockey and your love of the Bruins and Gerry Cheevers, I'll order a Tom Collins and you can have your Heineken.  But I'll just order one then switch to a Pepsi.  Then maybe have one beer then back to the cola drinks!  I'd love to hear your stories of being a high school football star and maybe you can explain to me how those athletic genes skipped this generation!

I never really vented these thoughts outside of my head.  My family tends to guard their feelings perhaps more than we should.  I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me or sad.  It feels good to put these thoughts down.  Miss you Dad, always XO.