As with every other day, I miss him immensely. If I could pick one thing that I miss the most, it would be the way that he made life seem so easy. Life is not easy, not at all. And it wasn't easy for my dad as he and my mom were both battling cancer. But he made it seem so. Never complaining, never feeling sorry for himself, never giving up hope, never missing a chance to count his blessings. It's hard to continue striving for that sense of ease without the person who conveyed it so effortlessly.
In the past, if I complained, felt sorry for myself, moped, or mentioned anything negative, my dad would put me in my place. But he didn't do it in a callous drill sergeant kind of a way, he did it in a way that made you feel like you could conquer the world. He instilled confidence in us when we felt defeated. He directed our minds to what really mattered instead of getting bogged down by the things that did not. He pushed us to be better people, to work harder, to not lose sight of our goals, but at the same time to have fun. He was a fun man. He was a family man. He was a prankster. He brought such life to a room. But I didn't notice all of this until now. Now that he is gone. Then he was just my dad. Now he is my role model.
Today, on Dec. 8, I feel content. I might even say that I feel happy. I realize that just because two years ago was a sad day, does not mean that today has to be a sad day. I woke up to two smiling kids and a coffee hand delivered to me (thanks Andrea! And Krista who delivered another one to me later!) And I am sitting in my parents' home that is now the Bajorek home, listening to Christmas music and decorating the house, and my husband assured me that he drove 60 mph without passing a single car on his way to work in Bloomington today. There is not much to complain about.
Yesterday was a kickstart to this good mood I believe. They were small things, but added up together they meant the world to me. For starters, I ran into Jobe's mom who I spoke to for a while. I was so happy to see her and know she is doing ok. She asked how I was doing, and I asked how she was doing. We felt each other's pain. After that, I took the flowers from my parents grave to have them refreshed for the Christmas season. The women in there knew that this was a tough time of year, and had them ready for me immediately when it often takes a couple of days. Then I went to my aunt's store and ran into my parents' good friend who got to play with my kids for a while. I love seeing my parents' friends who, with the exception of bumping into them every once in a while, I never see anymore. After that, a woman approached me at the store introducing herself as a friend of Jobe's mom who had read this blog, and she brought a smile to my face as she doted over my kids. And finally, we went to pick out our Christmas tree last night at the place my dad always got it...Scherle Tree Farm. My dad was a fixture at this tree farm for as long as I can remember. And yesterday when Matt and I showed up, Don (the owner) knew that we would want the tallest tree in the bunch. When we picked it out, he insisted on delivering and setting it up for us. Besides feeling completely spoiled, I felt completely blessed. The community has not forgotten my parents. Their legacy continues, and that makes me happy.
To my dad, I miss you dearly. My girls now call you "Gampa Yaarwy." They might look like Bajoreks, but they have my sass. You would be so proud.
 |
| My dad and I on Christmas morning 30 years ago; just about the same age as my girls today. |
