21 years

I waffled a bit about writing about this. It explains how I've been feeling lately though. This month marks 21 years since my dad died. That is misleading though, it sums it up so nice and neat when it's anything but. My mom left my dad when I was two. He was keeping things from her and she was worried about keeping me in that environment.

I wish I could say my father was wonderful and doted on me, that I was the most important thing in his life, but it wouldn't be true. He loved me, yes. In his way. See, my dad's first love was drugs. He started using at a very young age. I could get into the supposed whys but his sad story is not mine. Typical drug users life. He lied to get his way, to keep using. When men showed up at the door wanting money my mom gave them what she could, packed her stuff and got me out of there. His life style made it so I didn't see him often. My mom didn't like me being alone with him so I'd mainly see him with family. The last time I saw him was the summer of 1989, I was 7 years old. We soon moved to Colorado and I never saw him again.

See, the fall of 1990 my dad died. Again, that sounds so nice and neat. Truth was he had been arrested for possession of drugs and illegal firearms. He spent very little time in jail before being released. This raised some eyebrows and a contract was put out on him. Yes, my dad was murdered. His body was found in the woods where 2 men had dragged him and killed him. The men responsible are sitting in jail, paying for what they did. Doesn't change things though.

His death stole a lot of opportunities from me. While I know the chances of him ever sobering up were little, he tried many times and failed many times. I still wish there was that slight chance. The chance of him meeting his grand kids. Of ever knowing if he was proud of me.

Life goes on though and all I can do is strive to bring better into my kids life. To be there for them and provide them with everything they need. One day they will learn about their grandpa, not in a sad way, but in a happy way. His love of Minnesota and fly fishing, his kind nature and intelligence. He would have loved them.

Lost chances. There is a lot of them in my past. This is just one of the stories that make up my life. Now I look forward, to grand adventures! To many more falls in the future where my dad will be thought of and missed, but no regrets. You don't get far with regrets.