I was blissfully unaware that my daddy died. I was going about my life not knowing that soon my world would be turned upside down…
It was not until the evening of July 30, 2013 that I found out he died. You see, we had not spoken for a few years. I happened to be Online, and for some reason looked up his name on Google.
I saw an obituary notice.
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
Surely there must be a mistake.
I got on the phone and called his number. No answer.
I frantically searched for my aunt’s number . When I found it, I slowly dialed the number–fearing the worst.
As soon as she realized who I was, she began to tell me the horrifying news…
My dad had died–months earlier.
They tried to find me and could not.
My dad died.
I was devastated.
My heart burst, and I cried like I have not cried in years.
Time was up. I could not get it back.
Those years we did not speak… Why didn’t I call him??
You see, my dad was an alcoholic. A real binger type drunk. He called one night a few years prior–drunk, and unfriendly. I told him to not call me drunk ever again.
He never called again.
I never called him either.
Time went on. I would think about him every holiday.
More time went on.
I would tell myself, “I’ll call him soon…”
Soon never came.
Time ran out.
Today, my heart still hurts like it did when I heard my aunt tell me, “Your father is dead…” I cannot describe the sense of loss, regret, and pain I feel. Why didn’t I swallow my damn pride and CALL him??? Why? There is nothing quite like this feeling of regret. My heart aches. There are so many things I wish I could tell him…
I’m sorry, daddy. I love you. I would do almost anything to hear your voice again–even drunk.
If you are reading this, do not let another minute go by. Make the call.