The Legacy You Left in Our Hands.
A month ago, we said goodbye to my dad. ❤️
A month later, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're gone. I miss you, and there are so many things I wish I could tell you, so many memories I keep replaying, and so many moments when I wish I could pick up the phone or spend one more afternoon working alongside you.
You may have been my stepdad by title, but after 36 years of loving my mom and 32 years of marriage, you were so much more than that. You were my dad, and I will always be grateful for the life, love, and memories we shared.
One of the memories that stands out most from when I was a teenager was helping you with all the remodeling projects you were doing. You taught me skills that I still use to this day, and I don't think I fully appreciated back then just how much those moments would mean to me as an adult.
Most recently, you taught me how to design intricate projects with your scroll saw, helped me add built-ins to our home, and even taught me how to keep a garage organized. 😂 Who knew all those years of learning from you would turn into skills I would still rely on today?
Every time I work on a project, I think of you. Every time I use something you taught me, a little piece of you is right there with me. You didn't just teach me how to build things. You gave me knowledge, confidence, and memories that I will carry for the rest of my life.
And then there was you as a Papa. ❤️
You were such a great Papa to my kids. We visited many times a year, and you always wanted to take your grandkids out to explore something fun. Museums, zoos, parks, or Home Depot kids' projects—you loved finding things for them to experience and memories for them to make.
You showed up for those moments. You made time for them. You gave them experiences they will remember and stories they can tell for years to come. Those weren't just outings; they were time spent with their Papa, and that time was priceless.
You left so much more behind than memories. You left lessons, traditions, skills, and love that will continue through all of us.
But as much as I want to focus on the wonderful memories, I would be lying if I said I wasn't angry, too.
For 36 years, you loved my mom. You built a life with her, stood beside her, and shared decades together. Yet throughout those years, I watched you carry the sadness of relationships that weren't what you hoped they would be.
Your children never truly accepted my mom, and the disrespect toward her was painful to witness. Even when my parents visited only a couple of hours away, the visits rarely happened. For years, they lived many states away, and when they returned home, other people made the effort to visit them. Your own two children didn't make that same effort.
Your son rarely called. Your daughter would call at times when she had been drinking, and too often those conversations ended with, "I don't ever want to speak to you again!"
I watched how much that hurt you. I saw the sadness and disappointment you carried. No matter how old your children are, I believe a part of a parent always hopes for a better relationship, for a phone call, for a visit, for some sign that the love they have given still matters.
And then you passed away.
Your daughter stomped out of the funeral service. How disrespectful! Neither of your children showed up to your celebration of life. Your brothers and sisters didn't show up either. Goes to show you that family is not only by blood.
I cannot pretend that doesn't hurt. I cannot pretend I understand it. And I will not pretend I'm not angry.
All the years of missed opportunities, the hurt you experienced while you were alive, and the heartbreaking reality that you aren't here anymore to receive the love, effort, and acknowledgment you deserved.
You deserved better, Dad. You deserved to feel valued. You deserved to have people make an effort for you while you were still here. And you deserved to have your life celebrated by the people who were supposed to care.
I wish you hadn't carried so much sadness. I wish things had been different. I wish the people you loved had made more of an effort when you were still here to see it.
But I refuse to let their absence define your life.
Because I remember the man who taught me how to remodel a home. The man who taught me how to use a scroll saw and create things with my own hands. The man who helped me make our house a home.
I remember the Papa who took his grandchildren to museums, zoos, parks, and Home Depot projects. The Papa who helped create childhood memories and made time for our family year after year.
I remember the man who loved my mom for 36 years and built a life beside her.
THAT is the man I want remembered. That is the legacy you left behind.
Not who didn't come. Not who didn't call. Not who failed to show up when it mattered.
But the love you gave, the lives you touched, the skills you passed down, the adventures you shared with your grandchildren, and the memories that will stay with us forever.
I hope you knew how much you mattered to us. I hope you knew that we saw you, appreciated you, and loved you. I hope you knew that the time we spent together was never taken for granted.
Thank you for loving my mom. Thank you for being my dad. Thank you for being such a wonderful Papa to my kids. Thank you for every lesson, every project, every adventure, and every memory.
One month later, I would give anything for one more afternoon working beside you, one more project to figure out together, one more outing with the kids, or just one more chance to tell you how much you mean to me.
I miss you. I love you. And I am so grateful that you were part of our lives.
Your hands are still at work in the things you taught me to build. Your love is still part of the home you helped create. And your memory will live on in the grandchildren who got to explore the world with their Papa and in every one of us who was lucky enough to love you.
Rest peacefully, Dad. You deserved more time, more happiness, and so much more love than you sometimes received.
You will always be our Dad, our Papa, and a part of our family. And you will never, ever be forgotten. ❤️🕊️