My Dad died 9 years ago today. He was 70 years old. I spoke to him about a week before he died. I was looking for a brief case to buy for Bob. We talked about the importance of it not looking like a laptop bag, because when you are in an airport you don't want anyone to know you have a laptop, because they might steal your bag. How much have things changed in 9 years. Now it is assumed every businessman/woman in the airport has a laptop.
We discussed leather vs. canvass. We chatted about colors. I eventually selected the bag I did, based on our conversation. Bob used the bag until it disintegrated and I bought him another one just like it. I still have the brief case that my Dad bought me when I got my first professional job. I don't think I will ever get rid of it.
My father died on my second day back at work full-time after having Mac. I was in my office when Bob called me, but I was just walking out to nuke my lunch. I let it go to voicemail. When I got back I listened to the voicemail and I will never forget what went through my mind. Bob told me it was important, and I needed to call him immediately. I thought, Mac is ok, he is at daycare. Something bad happened, maybe his Dad died, or his Mom. It never occurred to me that it might be my Dad. But I knew something bad was up. So sure I was that my family was ok, when Bob told me, I was immediately sympathetic about the fact that HIS father had passed. I asked how HIS mother was taking the news. Bob set me straight.
I threw my lunch in the trash. Turned my computer off and told my Secretary I was going to California. I would call my boss and let him know what was up later. She wouldn't let me drive myself home. So she drove my car home and the other Secretary took her car so they could both go back to work.
It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Of my family I had to travel the furthest to get home. I was also the only one who made it that day. Besides the ones that lived in town. My brothers said, Susanna will get here, she will charter a plane if she has to, but she will get here. Sure enough, I did.
I still can not believe that it has been 9 years since he passed. I miss talking to him. So many times I wish I could ask him for his advice. I wish he could have met my kids. He got to see Mac, but he never got to see the others. I wish my kids could follow him around in the garden and eat peanuts with him.
Now, my Mom is the Grandma without a Grandpa. I miss my Dad. He was a good man.