With Father’s Day coming up in just three short days, of course I have memories of my dad running through my mind. It’s hard to believe that this will be the sixth year that I have not been able to call, text or go see him just to say “I love you”…or simply “I miss you”. I remember shortly after he left this world so abruptly, I would call his phone over and over with hopes that he would finally answer. Of course, he never did.
Before I move onto sharing a few of my memories, I’m reminded of a status I wrote a few months back:
At first I cringed, then I sighed. That glittery strand of hair I see sparkling in my reflection isn’t my blonde growing back in…it’s gray. I took another look and realized I should be happy, and I am. Growing older is a privilege denied to so many and I should be appreciative that I am alive and breathing. Now I just want a really cool gray streak to grow through my hair!
How true it is! Too many are afraid of growing old that they miss out on the “then and now”. I am by no means in any rush to be my future self, but I am not scared of the day that I look in the mirror and see a slightly more wrinkled, possibly gray-er, version of myself.
My father was taken from my mom, and us 6 kids, at the young age of 59…a few months shy of his 60th birthday, and only a few weeks after him and my mom celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. 40 years! How amazing is that? They grew up in an era when you did not run away from something merely because it may have had a broken piece; you stayed and worked on it until it was fixed and full again. I am so thankful that my parents raised us children with such strong morals and guidelines so we could turn into the adults we have become; I do not have enough words to define the amazing role models they were in every part of our lives.
My dad was my first true love, as is the case with any girl and her father if you’re lucky enough. I was his baby girl that he spoiled rotten when he could, disciplined when he needed, and threw the baseball with when I wanted. Everyone knew him as “the weatherman” but he was first and foremost a family man. Anyone that knew/knows my family can tell you that without hesitation. Our lives weren’t always perfect, we weren’t always running around in flower fields laughing and blowing bubbles, but looking back through my memories – we were, and still are, Smith strong…we always stick together.
One of my funniest memories of my dad follows:
Whenever someone would recognize my dad from TV, they would say “hey, aren’t you Robert Smith?” What would he reply? He would laugh and say “no, you have the wrong guy, I’m just a traveling magician”. He would the proceed with one of his million magic tricks that I have seen at least million and a half times. I would do anything to see one of his magic tricks, just one more time.
I will end with one of my favorite “dad” memories, which just so happens to be the night before he died. I had just arrived out at their house in the country, it was a cool night, the stars were all out and he wanted to show me the new hole that he had dug for the project he was starting the next day. The pride in his eyes I will never forget. After we went inside, my dad and I sat in his study and watched oldies music videos for what seems like hours to me now. In reality, who knows how long it really was.
Now, before I go I want to remind you all – please don’t take advantage of your time on earth. You never know when you will breathe your last breath, when you will kiss your last kiss, laugh for last laugh…you get my point, right? Tell your family you love them every day, but more importantly .. SHOW THEM.