My father died on June 9 over 30 years ago and every single June 9 seems to descend on me like a nasty cloud.
Until today. Well, technically it’s today but it’s not even 1am yet so daylight will take awhile and I am going to bed, not with the usual June 9 Dad grief but with a whole bunch of happy memories.
He walked like Charlie Chaplin
Canadian autumn leaves brought tears to his eyes
He talked to himself on the train, just silently, but I could see his mouth moving
Perspiration sometimes beaded his upper lip
He was strong, stern and silent
He was tired, relaxed and vociferous
His adoration of my mother was evident in every blink of his eye, every day I knew him
I was sometimes afraid of his intensity
And my own
But this didn’t stop me from rushing to hug him
He let me buy bazooka bubble gum even though he hated gum-chewing
He was a grammar school teacher
Then he was a chiropractor
If patients couldn’t pay, he would accept milk or apples or smiles
He was not a business man
My brother were playing football when he died
It was too sudden
I was on the other side of Australia
The nun from the hospital rang my mother and told her to come quickly to the hospital but wouldn’t say why
My mother drove those 20 kms not knowing that her husband was already dead
He loved dogs
And squirrels
He loved my older brother’s determination
He loved my younger brother’s gentleness
He loved my being so much like him – well I think he did, maybe he didn’t know
My mother’s gregariousness was difficult because he was a bit of a loner
And a poet
Not a perfect man
Impatient if I didn’t cut my asparagus before putting it in my mouth
No stirring of the icecream
He got us our first television and we watched Disney at its inception – the wonder of it!
Everything about his memory makes me cry and laugh
Live and die
Bleed and heal
Today I refuse, for the first time in all these years, to mourn his death
Today I will walk like Charlie Chaplin
And I will grin my dad’s grin
Because I have thousands and thousands more memories
As Dad might have put it – “buggar off, grief!”
jmgoyder 
absolutely eloquent, heartfelt, a stirring tribute and memory
I had to write this before I went to bed so I could wake up happy instead of crappy on this anniversary of his death.
😀
Good idea. Well done, Julie. I think it helps to do this. I felt better when I wrote about my sister in much the same way.
Thanks – wonderful encouragement!
This is so beautiful! I believe it would make him smile. 😉
Have a blessed day, Julie, but first… get some sleep!
~ Lynda
I had a good sleep and now I’m off to pick Anthony up for the day – yeeha!
i will b glad when the time comes that i can look at Father’s Day as a day of wonderful memories, but as of now, i can only see sorrow. this was a great post you wrote. thanks for sharing with me
This is the first time I have ever felt happy in my dad’s death anniversary – weird!
i m happy for you that you have reached this point. i will also, in time.
You will!
Simply and so beautifull expressed!
Thanks Angela!
Great of you to do this in memory of your dad. I would like to try the same thing, but it’s been 20 years since I’ve seen him and don’t remember much about him. It sounds like you have some wonderful memories to keep. Thanks for sharing your warm insight.
I kind of did it for myself to shake off the impending grief of today.
Julie…I have been a follower for a while…a fan since the beginning…I love your work and love how your fingers lay your thoughts on the page. BUT, this is my absolute favorite post so far and I’m crying and laughing with you. I am so in this place, with you, with your father, as I’m with mine. I see him in so much the same way…and while I never thought assign Chaplin to his walk (I always say he walks like a penguin) I wish I had. It’s brilliant and lovely and I adore you for it. I celebrate today with you, you very special woman. big smiles today!!!
Rhonda
Wow – Rhonda, thank you. I think it’s fantastic that your dad and mine had the same way of walking – ha! Love Julie
Makes me smile again, just to think about it. Truly amazing.
Wonderful tribute and well done… I miss my Dad too dear Julie… Memories, he lives withing my memories… Thank you dear, love, nia
You are so right – memories….
A lovely tribute.
This is a lovely tribute.
Usually I feel miserable on this day but not today! Thank you.
Hi,
A lovely tribute.
Thank you!
What a beautiful tribute to your dad and so close to Father’s Day…. 🙂
Is it nearly Father’s Day – yikes – we need to get Ants a present!
Very nice way to honor him, surely he would rather you be happy at the memory of him than sick with grief 😉
Yes and I can feel his grin today!
Your treasure trove of memories to add to mine on this, our special day to celebrate his life.Your daughterhood makes parents like your Dad, the parent that he was. Mother xx
eloquent and poignant.
My father died on October 11, exactly 30 thirty years ago this year. But most years it still feels like this year. Some years are easier than others, but that week (no matter how the dates fall with days of the week), throw me for a loop and I’ve learned to just accept it. Great post, I know how you feel,
My mum just said it’s 34 years for us, so you and I have a very similar time frame and experience. It is so lovely that you know how I feel because of course now I know how you feel too. Today is, for me, the first time I have felt light instead of heavy with the grief of losing Dad. Thanks Katrina!
Hang in there, Have a great day
I like how you chose to remember the good things about your dad.
He was a good man.
all the more reason to focus on your happy memories!
Sounds like your dad was a wonderful person, and that’s a great way to remember him.
So beautiful…read it to my husband and he agreed… feel like we knew him almost. I really think those words are powerful enough energetically for him to sense and know them – wherever he may be… Sending love xo
What a wonderful idea, Robyn – thank you so much! J
What a beautiful tribute in his memory…. I bet he’s watching over you with a smile… Hugs!
It’s been a good day! Thank you!
What a lovely portrait. It’s a lovely moment when the grief ceases to burn so. Like putting hot swollen feet in a cool stream 🙂 So glad this 9th June was different for you.
Lovely comment – thank you!!!!!
Wow, favorite narrative ever. Beautiful. Now I love your dad!!! Big hugs!
Thank you MM!
I must remember that, “buggar off grief!”
“bugger off, grief” 😀 I miss my Dad, too, Julie.
Sorry about your dad.
I wish I got to meet grandad, xx
So do I! He would have adored you!
Beautiful and heartfelt!
Awww how beautiful that you have such wonderful memories of your Dad and what a lovely tribute to him..
He was the best!
You brought him to life – as a man, a father, a husband, a teacher… Beautifully done Julie!
Thank you for this! I was gonna write something quite morbid then my heart shifted pace!
What a beautiful tribute to your father! Beautifully written!
He was a beautiful man.