Gone, but Never Forgotten
On the morning of March 18th, the world lost a great man. A selfless, passionate, kind man with an unwavering moral compass who would incessantly put the needs of those he cared for above his own. After ferociously battling an accident-induced stroke for over two months, nature reclaimed my father to take a seat in the heavens and we never got to say goodbye.
He was supposed to dance at my wedding and play with my kids. Who’s going to make breakfast for the family every Saturday morning now? What about traveling the world with Mom? It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. Why? Why my Dad? Why do bad things happen to good people?
The deeper I dove into those web of questions, the more entangled I became, without an answer in sight. I came to terms that all things in life don’t need an explanation, nor should you expect it because saying “everything happens for a reason” just doesn’t cut it for me here. And I sure don’t need someone telling me it’s all part of God’s plan. Nothing justifies this, just as nothing justifies the millions of innocent lives stolen from disease, starvation, natural disasters, and more.
Begrudgingly, but necessarily, I pushed myself past the futility of the how and why. Instead, I appreciated the years I had the privilege of sharing with him, filtered down to the fondest memories I could always relive.
The bird house we built, stories he told, road trips we took, bread we broke.
He always told me he loved me; that he was proud of me. Two days after he passed, I scrolled past his entire Facebook timeline, and a majority of his many posts over the years were pictures of my mom, my brother and I, exclaiming to the world how much he loved his family and how we were his pride and joy. Whether it was making a neat latte art that morning, a promotion at work, or my campervan, he would take pride in all of my accomplishments.
He truly inspired me and was my role model. I became a software engineer because of him. I built a camper van because he had taken me camping since I was a little kid and taught me to love the great outdoors. I became a free thinker, not afraid to try new things, because he gave me the freedom to make my own decisions, and make my own mistakes. My sense of humor and ability to indulge myself in the most mundane and simple jokes stems from his dad jokes over the years.
I can’t say enough about his redeeming qualities -- his humility, unwavering moral compass, respect towards everyone, kindness, attention to detail, and how much he really cared for all his people around him, both friends and family.
I truly owe everything I have in my life to this man. I’ll miss you Dad. I’ll really, really miss you. You may be gone, but you’ll never be forgotten.