On May 2nd 2014 my Dad would have turned 72. He passed away when I was 15, 2 1/2 months shy of my 16th birthday in 1988. He was only 46. Dad had a rare form of leukemia that attacked his system rapidly. He went into the hospital on my Mom’s birthday on October 13th and passed 2 weeks later on All Saint’s Day, November 1st.
The picture above was Christmas 1975. Just before my 2nd birthday. Oh, the 70’s. Daddy’s polyester shirt. Plastic tablecloths. Gold rimmed coffee cups, and if you look closely…yep, that’s Daddy’s little girl throwing up the middle finger for Jesus’ birthday. I was a handful, even back then. But c’mon, how adorable was I? 😉
I think it’s the holiday’s I remember most when I think of my Dad. He was a cook. No…I take that back. My Daddy was a Chef! A Master Chef. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t cook. Oh and how he loved it. But you couldn’t tell by the strew of obscenities that would pour from the kitchen during preparations. I chalk it up to the Italian temper. He was passionate to say the least. I like to think I get my love of cooking from him…and I’m not too shabby if I do say so myself.
When someone dies, things change. Even If you don’t want them to, they do. You can’t avoid it. You always wonder What if they were still here? What could I have done different? How would life be if they were here now? It’s only natural. I tend to get caught up in the “what if’s” a lot in my life. Can’t seem to help it.
Today I’ve decided not to do that. I’m going to just focus on positive’s. The happy memories. The laughs. The things that are the same.
Happy birthday Daddy ♥ I love you