This past weekend I celebrated my hero, a man who never gave up on me, who believed and loved me unconditionally. He was my father Steven Jay Hamilton, some of his short stories can be found HERE on my blog. My father and I had a unique bond, I was not just a daddy’s girl, but at a young age when I felt unloved and unwanted he was my constant.
This is Not Goodbye, but See You Someday Again!
When I was little my dad would take me out to survey property lines. He was a raw land developer and most of his work was in the hot Sierra Nevada desert. It was at eight years old he taught me how to drive his blue and white, 1981 Ford F-150 pickup. I was barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel, but I loved that he trusted me enough to drive around on the empty desert roads.
As an adult my bond strengthened even more and I considered my father a friend. He was always sending my mom out to play grandma, would call and leave these super positive voice messages about how much he missed me and the grand babies.
When I flew out the middle of April to be with him after a terrible fall in his bathroom, I was shocked to see how frail my once strong father was. He looked like a skeleton with skin draped over his body like a poorly altered suit. Even with all the pain and evident health issues he still had his twinkle in his eye and contagious laugh. One of the first things he did when I walked in was light up like the Fourth of July and place both hands on my growing belly asking how his soon his to be grand baby was doing? He wanted to know if it were a boy or girl, but I could not tell him as I was not far enough along. I sang to my father every chance I got because it was one of the things he loved and it brought joy.
When we took him home on hospice care I did not expect him to die nine days later, I figured we would have time. I thought he would get better, but for those last nine days of his life I took turns caring for the only other man besides my husband who truly took the time to “know me.” My hero died, stolen from me way to soon because of cancer. I was that crazy pregnant woman who screamed like she was on fire, crawling on the hospital style bed both legs straddling his lifeless body, with giant tears streaming down freely flowing down his chest. I laid with him until they came to get his body and sang to him. My hero was gone.
Less than a couple months have passed since he left this Earth for a better place, but one thing I have learned from this is your tomorrow’s are never given. We have this one life and we get to choose how we live it. I now wake up and go to bed making sure my husband and children all know I love them. I live with no regrets and treat each day as a gift.
My hero might not be here physically, but I have felt his presence many times. I know he would be so excited to know that grand baby he couldn’t wait to meet was a girl. I know he would be proud of my older kids finishing 1st and 2nd grade and he would want to know all about our summer plans. He cared and he had an amazing way of letting you know you were important to him.
Daddy THANK YOU for loving me, thank you for being my rock, for being the greatest grandfather a daughter could ask for. I know our time here on Earth was not nearly long enough, but I cherished every single moment of it.
❤️ Your Daughter