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I celebrated my last Father’s Day with my dad in 2001.  My brothers, their wives and families, my uncle and my husband were all there.  We had a cookout at my dad’s house.  Little did I know it would be the last dad died the following month.

My parents divorced when I was 2.  He remarried and had 2 girls.  I have no memory of having ever lived with my dad.  Whenever he came over to visit, there was some pretty nasty fights with my mom.  

Ocassionally he did take me out, sometimes with my sisters.  That was nice because I rarely went anywhere.  He did attend all my graduations and when I was in college, he helped out by giving me money for books.  When I got married, he walked me down the aisle.

Still, I don’t feel like I knew my father very well.  I don’t remember having any deep conversations with him.  When I was a child, I was honestly afraid of him because of his volatile temper.  When I was an adult, after I got married, we moved close to him and we got together on a regular basis.  That was nice but shortly after that he died.

I wish I had known my father better.  I wish I would have had a better relationship with him.  And I wish he would have met my sons.

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