It has begun. It sneaks up on me each year. A tad depressed, a little melancholy, sudden onset of tears, and a whole lot of pissy. It takes me awhile to figure it out. Then…it clicks. The anniversary of my daddy’s death is close. My subconscious remembers like it received a reminder alarm on an invisible iPhone. Damn subconscious.
April 9, 1992. He was 47 years old. It simultaneously feels like it’s been forever and like it was yesterday. I can’t remember his voice no matter how hard I try. I didn’t make it to the hospital in time. He died before I arrived. That crushes my heart.
Charles Wesley Smith was born August 5, 1944. He was funny, intelligent, stubborn and the first nerd I ever met. (It was years before I realized I too am a nerd) He was a Science teacher, an avid Amateur Radio Operator, a Christian, a Trekkie and unfortunately, a Type 1 diabetic. Diagnosed on his 2nd birthday. Can you say shitty birthday gift?!?
He suffered the first of many strokes when I was eight. I woke up in the middle of the night with EMT’s in the hallway. Scared the shit out of me. After each stroke and/or heart attack, I was told to prepare for his passing. Every time he pulled through albeit with some degree of paralysis. ( He was also legally blind)
CWS was a fighter and very, very stubborn. I sometimes think that’s why I didn’t get to the hospital in time…I truly didn’t think I would lose him. I thought I’d see him again, have the chance to tell him things. Important things.
I tell him those things everyday now. When I wake up and before I go to bed. I hope he hears me. I hope he knows how much I love him. How much I am like him.
The moral of this story? Tell your people the important things…now. Don’t wait. Tell them when they can hear you.
Charles W Smith was most definitely the World’s Greatest Dad. I miss him beyond words.
I was and will always be, Daddy’s girl.
inkedandmouthy 