Today, I spent observing as my mom went through my dad's things in her room. We all knew this day would come, after my dad's passing a little over 2 months ago. But I never imagined I would be this disengaged. I had imagined a huge ordeal; the whole family sitting down, talking over memories and what each thing meant to us, lots of tears and kleenex, and fights over who would keep what. I guess that's the drama queen in me because it was nothing like that. Because of the treacherous weather, my mom and I have been snowed in the house together, my brother stuck in town at my aunt's house, mom had decided that she needed to deep clean her room, rearrange and the whole bit. Which presented the perfect opportunity for going through my dad's things. Most of which, it makes no sense to keep (clothes. shoes, etc.) And I just sat downstairs, knowing it was happening but not knowing if I could deal with that just yet, not that I have any doubt in my mind that he is gone, but this final step just validates that finally. We can no longer pretend he is on a long work trip or vacation only to arrive back once again, we can never expect him back at the dinner table or at birthday parties. I have worked up a lot of emotions in my head this evening about how I feel about getting rid of my dad from this house; anger, depression, hurt, sadness. It even ran across my mind once or twice to yell up at my mom exactly how I felt about her at this very moment. How horrible I thought she was. But I just sat down there, with Toddlers&Tiaras bellowing in the background, imagining a scene much like this one, where I was watching some mindless TV show, mom was cleaning away, Rob was gone and Dad was outside, only to come back in, sit down and snuggle up next to me and ever-so-smoothly grab the remote changing the channel to football making at sarcastic remark about how I watch too much garbage and telling me to order a pizza. Boy, do I miss him. Everyday. Sometimes, I even catch myself going downstairs to tell him a story or sitting in his "spot" on the couch, waiting for him to kick me out of it, or bossing Rob around and waiting for him to yell at Rob to stick up for himself. Oh, what I wouldn't give for one more hug and forehead kiss, for hearing him yell "Ag" down the stairs one more time. I miss my dad. His T-shirts and shorts, his ridiculous water shoes that he wore just about everywhere but the water, his ball caps, his sunglasses and his mustache. I think today I was more afraid that with the things that I used to see everyday that I maybe took for granted, his shaving kit, his duffle bag, his favorite Tshirt, so also would go my memories of him. That this would begin the long journey to forgetting, which is a journey I don't ever want to take. I don't want to forget his smile. I don't want to forget his laughter, I don't want to forget the man who taught me the most profound of life lessons without ever saying a word, I don't want to forget my biggest fan, I don't want to forget my dad. And I won't, from now to forever, every milestone, every kodak moment, every moment of every day I will remember and I will miss my Daddy.
-Aggie
