Why I can thank my dad for dying (and still miss him dearly)

The good that came out of the bad

My life would have been vastly different if my dad hadn’t died early on in my life. I expected him to live long enough to meet his grandchildren, and even longer — surely, he’d live until eighty, at least. He was always a healthy guy with no physical problems, after all, so why would I think otherwise?

Lo and behold, he died suddenly on January 20th, 2013, at the ripe old age of 42. I was 16, halfway through eleventh grade. Death changes people. That’s a given. I’ve never been the same since my dad died, and I know I’m not the only one who’s been deeply affected by the death of a loved one. But that’s not what I’m talking about when I say my life would’ve been vastly different if he’d just kept living.

You see, while I didn’t inherit a lot of his possessions (despite being the new legal owner of those possessions… What the hell, family?!), I did inherit money. Enough to easily get a post-secondary education.

“You can choose any university you want,” my mom told me.

I was astonished that I had a privilege so few people my age have. I didn’t have to work my ass off countless summers in a row or take out student loans just to pay for school. I had more than enough to pay for tuition, residence, meals, textbooks… Everything. It’s an almost guilty feeling. Nevertheless, I chose a university six hours away from my hometown, broke up with my boyfriend, and set out for the big bad world, scared and heartbroken.

I adapted to the new city much faster than I thought I would. I took well to my studies, did some volunteering, joined a club or two, and made some friends. I loved my new life. Before long, a boy walked into it. I met him in one of the university clubs I’d joined and immediately took a liking to him. It was many months before we actually started dating. Things were going so well that we decided to move in to a new place together, accompanied by my two cats.

Though he’s only a year older than I am, he’s had much more life experience, so I had to play catch up. Admittedly, I still am. It’s the kind of catching up I enjoy doing.

When I take a moment to consider everything I have, I realize I’m happier than ever. I can only imagine what it would’ve been like had my dad not died. Perhaps I still would have gone to university or college, using what I had in savings, and taking out the remainder of the fees in student loans. It would have been a university or college in my hometown, though — that way, I wouldn’t have to pay residence fees or buy my own groceries. I would have stayed with my boyfriend (who, if you read my first article, you know was abusive) and stunted my personal growth. My future would look so different, and probably not in a good way.

People seem to think I’m crazy when I say I’m lucky. The thing is, I absolutely am lucky. Yeah, I suffered a loss. Don’t we all? At least I gained something in the process.

Dad, you’ve been gone for three years today, and I miss you every day. But you ensured I could take the next step in my life before yours ended. And for that, I am eternally grateful.