Monday, January 10, 2022

You're the end of the rainbow...my pot of gold, you're daddy's little girl to have and to hold

 


I lost my father on December 23rd, 2021.  We laid him to rest this past weekend.  I can type those words over and over again and they will never seem real.  My father was 91 years old.  Praise God he was a healthy man who did not stop working until January of his last year. He lived a good life.  He touched many lives.  He lit up a room. His love for my mother was immeasurable. These were all things that were said about him in the last few weeks since his passing.  They are all true. But what struck me most this past weekend was the legacy he leaves behind in his grandchildren.  There are seven of them.  Anthony, Jessica, Richie, Katey, Danny, Nicholas and Emily.  Those 7 human beings---they represent how my father will be immortalized.  And what an INCREDIBLE legacy that is.

In the beginning of October we got the news that my dad had a mass on his pancreas.  My brother and sister and I had a phone call about how to best present the news to my dad.  My brother was the one to have the conversation and my dad chose to not have any further testing or treatment.  We accepted his decision.  He was planning to spend a few months up north for the holidays anyway, so we moved up the date.  You know what?  I am going to spare you the details of the next 3 months and just discuss my daddy and the reason we are ALL so destroyed by his passing, even though clearly this news had us all knowing the outcome and that it would most likely be swift.

Growing up, my dad was not a warm, fuzzy man.  He didn't allow us to be weak or tolerate anything but our best.  If I received a B on a test he wanted to know why it wasn't an A.  He knew my potential and would not accept anything less.  I did not resent it, I embraced it.  I always wanted my dad to be proud of me.  During the luncheon following his memorial this weekend we were discussing how we were disciplined as children.  Of course most of the males in attendance remember having the belt used on them - my brother included.  Someone asked me if I was ever hit/spanked.  I said no.  (that's a lie, he spanked me once and my mother ended that immediately lol)  My brother in law scoffed at that - oh that's right you were perfect!  Not in the slightest.  However, the thought of disappointing my father kept me from disrespecting him or doing anything that would cause that reaction from him.  I often wonder why and how he had that "power" over me.  He earned it.  

On Christmas day (2 days after his passing) I had an uncontrollable melt down while getting ready to go to Christmas dinner.  I said to myself, I cannot do this.  I am not going, surely they will understand?!  I heard my dad say "You are going!  You made a commitment and you will stick to it!"   I went.  I told my son what happened he chuckled and said "That's EXACTLY what Pop would have said!" 

 His demeanor and his presence had such an impact on his grandchildren.  The 7 of them have (as my siblings and I do) a work ethic that is bar none.  While I made the trip to Long Island this weekend to lay him to rest I was quite simply a mess.  I have cried more in the past 3 months than I think I have in the last 15 years.  The grief hits me like a sledgehammer.  I have been shopping and tears just silently flow down my face.  I have been driving and had to pull over because the sobs overcome me.  I was convinced that after this weekend I would have some sort of "closure" and it would lessen---not the case.  My children have been feeling the same.  My oldest and youngest do not always show their emotions but the amount of tears I have watched them shed for their Poppa are immeasurable.  I knew my cream filling son was going to take it hard.  He was the closest to my dad.  He has been calling him since he was 8 years old on his own.  He would take trips down to see him and spend weekends there.  I was expecting this to be hard on him, but I don't think I expected it to hit the other two this hard. But it shows the impact both of my parents had on their lives.

I am not going to lie, I do not even really know how they reacted during the Mass honoring his life, because I was trying not to scream out with the utter anguish that was inside of me.  My middlest said last night that he looked over and kept seeing me shaking my head violently on my lap.  Because I kept saying NO!  I will NOT accept THIS!  He's not gone.  And that was the only way I could stop myself from screaming it.

My Godson, the oldest grandchild, gave a beautiful, emotional Eulogy for my dad.  My cream filling son gave the first reading, my brother's oldest daughter did the second, my sister's son and brother's youngest daughter did the last one.  All 7 of them walked up together and presented the gifts to the priest.  That was the most beautiful tribute to their grandparents ever.  I will hold that vision in my head for the rest of my days.  That is what my father wanted.  That is what he preached to us our whole lives---Family First!  And my sister, brother and I have done him proud with the way we have raised our children.  He did not always agree with our parenting styles --- but the end product was the same.  7 INCREDIBLE, respectful, loving, hard working, intelligent, good looking (if I do say so myself 😉 individuals.

My daughter is devastated that she is the only one he will not see graduate.  But she is carrying on his legacy by going to cosmetology  school (my dad was a barber).  He commented often that he was so happy and so proud that someone was going to carry on that tradition and legacy.  And I know he and my mom will be there as she turns her tassel in May.  Maybe not in a seat like the others, but in all of our hearts and in spirit.

What struck me so hard is that I will never again hear him say "I'm proud of you Angel"....I cannot breathe at the thought of it.  He did not say that a lot when I was a child, but he made up for it once I became a mother.  He often told me how much he admired the type of mother I was.  Then when I rejoined the workforce at nearly 50 years old he would tell me all the time how proud he was of me.  He was the only person in my life that I KNEW would be there for me 24/7/365 and he is gone.  He's gone......how on earth will I survive the rest of my life without him?  I do not know.  But I know I will, because he raised me to be that way.  And he raised me to never give up and never say never.  I will continue to do my very best to live up the standards he set for me....and my last words to him (in person) were "Thank you for being my daddy, I love you"----how lucky am I that I got to tell him that?  How lucky am I that I had a dad that left such a hole in the lives of those who loved him.....  

Very lucky indeed.....Arrivederci poppa----give mommy a big hug and now both of you will keep us safe and watched over.  I love you.   Thanks for being my daddy 💓