The Last Time We Talked
I talked to my Dad for the last time about a week and a half before he passed. It was a Tuesday in the middle of September. We always called each other on Tuesday’s. The thing I’ve realized though is that there isn’t a part of that phone call that I remember. I’m sure it started off by him saying, “Hey Baby” and ended with a “Love ya”, but I’m clueless as to what else was said.
I know now there is much more I would have said to him had I known I was never going to talk to him again. I would have thanked him. I would have thanked him for the millions of time he drove me to and from softball. I would have made sure he knew how grateful I was that he stayed at home with me while I was growing up and how much the time we had together when I was little meant. I know I would have wanted to tell him that he was the best Dad I could have ever hoped for. I’d say thank you for throwing parties for me and my friends at the end of the school year. I would have told him thank you for not killing me when I crashed your jeep into a tree. Thanks for dancing with me to Frank Sinatra on the deck by our pool. Thanks for saving me when I near drowned in the pool. Thank you for making me dinner every night. Thank you for the times you let me run errands with you. Thank you for putting up with my awful singing voice to all the country songs in your car. Thanks for helping me with my math homework since mom was no good with numbers. Thanks for always making sure I had everything I needed or wanted, I was a lucky girl. Thank you for all the times you stopped by just to bring me and Henry Dunkin’ Donuts in the morning because you knew how much we loved strawberry frosted donuts.
I know I would have also wanted to say sorry. I would have wanted to apologize for not being able to visit him more after moving to Iowa. I would have wanted to say sorry for spending more time with my friends than with him when I did visit because I always thought that me and him would have more time. I’d say sorry for the times I got angry with him for things he couldn’t control. I’d say sorry for not calling more than once a week. I would apologize for forgetting to send his father’s day cards for the last three years.
Lastly, if I knew that I was never going to talk to him again I’d tell him how much I loved him. I’d tell him how he was the greatest man I ever knew and will ever know. I would make sure that he knew that he meant the world to me and that without him my world would never be quite as bright as when he was here.
So what’s the point? What’s the point of me sharing these things in a blog? Learn from me. Learn from the things I wish I would have said. Learn from me regretting the time I didn’t spend with my Dad that I should have. If you have the ability to call your parents this second, do it. If your parents say they miss you and want to see you, make the time. Sure, we are young and want to be with our friends and most of us would rather go out to the bars and drink than go home for the weekend, but make time anyways. Please, if there is one things I would hope for anyone who has read any of my blogs, make the time for your parents and your family.