10 Years

My dad died 10 years ago today, so I've been thinking about him a lot lately. I've been thinking about all of the things that have changed in the past 10 years, and what my dad would have thought about them.

I think he'd be sad that Alex is in Los Angeles, because he'd miss him and he'd be worried about him. I was older than Alex when I lived out there, but not by much, and I remember how much he worried about us then. I'm sure that I didn't call often enough to alleviate some of that worry, so I think it made him happy when I moved back to Ohio.

I also think my dad would be really proud of the direction that Ari is heading right now. He'd be glad that she's reaching for her dreams. I think he'd be more understanding than I was about her putting all of her eggs in one basket with college. He'd be happy that she made her choice early and got into the school she really wanted even if it will be challenging for me to let her go to Connecticut when she is still so young. I guarantee that even though he wouldn't be able to drive if he were alive now, he'd have her Wesleyan sticker on the back window of his car.

I think my dad would have loved Adam as a son-in-law. He'd be happy to see how he takes care of all of us and has such a focus on our family. My dad would probably putter around with Adam on his projects - and make him straighten up the work bench. He'd probably have a fit that our tools aren't organized like his were!

I know my dad would love the Littles. He'd laugh at Heath's antics and sit with the girls for hours. My dad never let his illness interfere with his relationship with any of the grandkids. (Though there were just 4 with one on the way when he died - I'm sure he'd be shocked that there are 9 now!) The week my Dad died we'd put a hospital bed in one of the front bedrooms of the house. Alex had received a basketball hoop for his tenth birthday (March 6th), and we set it up at my parents' house instead of our townhouse so that my dad could watch Alex play ball in the driveway. And every time Dad was in the hospital, he had all of the grandkids sit on the bed with him. We had some rollicking parties in those rooms, and the kids were in and out all of the time. I'm sure we drove the other patients nuts, but we were living to the end.

I think Dad would be happy that Mom lives with us, because it means that she's not alone. And even though the kids are too much for her sometimes, every day she still has purpose. She's not spending the rest of her life in mourning, though I know she still misses him all of the time.

I'm thankful that my Dad always knew who we were; he forgot a lot of things, but he held on to us to the end. And even more importantly, he held on to himself to the end; Alzheimer's didn't steal that from him either. It stole too many years, and it stole a lot of cognitive things, but my Dad was my Dad until the day he died.

And I still miss him.