I lost my dad on Monday, June 17, 2019.
Today is two months.
So I decided to write him a letter. The idea came to me when I was thinking about a popular recurring episode style on M*A*S*H.
One of my favorite TV shows is M*A*S*H. I caught an anniversary special on TV land one night and was hooked. But now that I think back, I realize I had watched the show before that. When I was a little girl visiting my dad in Florida, I vaguely recall seeing the opening credits on a tiny little square tv while we were supposed to be napping.
As a teenager I borrowed the dvds from the library and drove my mother nuts watching the show from start to finish (this was the early days of binge watching, and I don’t even think they called it that yet). My love for M*A*S*H was well known to my family and they bought me the complete series on DVD plus an amazing collectors edition book about the show.
When it came to Hulu I was ecstatic about being able to watch it whenever or wherever. In the show, there’s a regular episode theme throughout the show where the write a letter to a loved one describing what’s going on. Many of the episodes are of series the lead, Hawkeye Pierce, writing to his father.
This is my Dear Dad letter.
I miss you.
It’s been two months since I last heard your voice.
It wasn’t a long conversation, I just called to talk to you on my way home from work, something I did often as I enjoy having someone to talk to while I drive home. That day I had a purpose for calling though. I had been in a car accident a few days prior and hadn’t yet told you because I’d be been trying to deal with insurance companies and get a rental car. I didn’t want you to see an update on Facebook before I had a chance to tell you. The conversation was less than twenty minutes. The time it took to get from Tanger to goose creek on a Saturday afternoon. We discussed your hospital stay that week, my car accident, and Poppa’s upcoming 80th birthday.
I got that call two days later while I was in a meeting. Even now, I’m uncomfortable sitting in meetings in our party room. That became one of the longest weeks of my life.
I want to call and tell you silly things like about the Jonas Brothers, or that I finally watched CNN’s Seventies documentary on Netflix. Now I have a million questions about Watergate and music that you’d be able to answer so easily.
I’m going back to school next week and I’m even
I have so many plans for this next year. From cruises to concerts, to graduating and starting a new job in my field.
Honestly, I don’t know how to handle the grief, so instead, I work because it’s all I know how to do. Then I hear Sweet Child O’ Mine on the radio, see a Snoopy comic or see your name in my phone’s Favorites list and I miss you all over again. Facebook memories are the worst. I spent most of my life saying goodbye and missing you, that this should be ok. But it’s so different. I hate the permanence of it.
I miss you.