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Dear Dad


So this post first started about a week ago on me and my weight loss journey but then suddenly and fast on July 30th my Dad passed away in Nebraska so my writing in this "My Life" changed to "Dear Dad". I have been slowly going back and forth to writing anything about this but in the end, it is one of the only way to get it all out. 

My Dad, Anthony David De'Leon was born on March 6th, 1958 and passed away July 30th, 2017 due to having Cirrhosis of the Liver. My relationship with my father was not ideal at all. I look at this man that I know I love but I do not know him in a way a daughter should. As my brother and I were looking for flowers to send to his service and we didn't know his favorite color, it was heart breaking. 

My father and mother separated when I was a few months old, my only photos and Memories of my dad were when I was 8 years and up. I have a photo I will have posted below and that is the only photo I know that exists of me with my dad before the age of 8 and it looks like I was two. Anyways he took to drinking and drugs and chose that over a life of a family. As I got older (at the age of 8) we started going to Milwaukee every summer and we stayed with my Grandma Joan and would see and spend time with my Dad when he would come around. The sad thing is when I think of that amazing time in Milwaukee I remember all the times we spent with my Grandma and Grandpa, not too many of my dad. He never had a place of his own, every year when we left to Milwaukee he was renting a new room with a new family or friends, which in its own way I have great memories of meeting so many different people along the way. 

One of my favorite memories of my dad is one day we left from my grandma's apartment early in the A.M. and he took me around the city and all day we walked, rode the city bus, talked, ate, and had fun. We ended up being down by the beach, by rocks, down town where we could just sit and stare at the city lights and it was beautiful.  We took one more bus ride and another long walk before we ended up at the place where he was living. What I don't think he ever knew was that was an amazing day for me and that is the day I fell in love with the city, he was also my first motorcycle ride; The man loved his Harleys. 

Oh his laugh, I could go on and on about his laugh and his voice. As a child, I use to think I would hear it in the street and get excited that he had come to visit and turn around and it wasn't him. I haven't seen my dad for almost 14 years. It was November 2004 and 1 week before I found out I was pregnant with my first daughter when I had seen him last, After this, he has moved out to South Dakota where my family basically was from. The last time I heard his voice was 2 years ago when my grandma called me for my birthday and he was there at the nursing home with her. It breaks my heart I didn't get to see him more or that we didn't talk more; Even more that he had three beautiful granddaughters he never met or got to know. I can sit here and beat myself up not trying more with my dad but in the end, I was no longer a little girl chasing after my father, I just wanted him to see me with out me trying to get his attention. 

He was funny, he had the most cheesy jokes, one that a grown up probably shouldn't think is funny or ones that he shouldn't be telling kids. He taught me how to hot wire a car, taught me many things about cars but I didn't listen to it all. There was a time he sat down and taught me how to chug SunnyD. Again not something you should teach your 9 year old haha.

I have bad timing when I call people and this has become a thing; when I called my friend Rachel all the time I would always call while she was in the shower, it was ridiculous. It goes for everyone else I call whether it be them in the shower, just sitting down for dinner, or something bad just happened. I hate calling people because I always seem to catch them in a bad time and sadly it is what happened with my dad. Not talking to him for two years and having family update on Facebook his hospital number was. I was so nervous about calling but I knew in the back of my heart this would probably the last time, I needed to let him know that I loved him, I wanted that closure with him. I called and there was no answer. I go back on Facebook later and brother, sister, cousins, uncles and even his friends are updating on how he sounds. though out the next two days before he got bad enough where he couldn't even wake up I called, called, called, called and he never answered.....I never got to talk to my dad, I never got to tell him I love you one last time, I never got to hear his voice or laugh, there are no old home videos to go back to listen to, we both didn't get that closure. My sister made it down to South Dakota before he passed and handed all the hard stuff you have to deal with after death and she is amazing for that. She asked if  I wanted to say some words to him and she would put up the phone to his ear, I didn't do it. Some days I regret it and some days I don't because I remember the day we spoke and what he had to say to me two years ago.

He was my Dad and that is all that matters, I just wish I knew him more but he will live on through memories of others and through many photos. Just because someone isn't in your life the way you want them to, don't stop trying because one day they will be gone and you will regret all things.

I love you Dad 




My last message from him



This post first appeared on A Chick Who Can Cook, please read the originial post: here

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