Oh man. You know, I knew this day was coming, almost exactly 6 months after the death of my dad. But I really thought I'd be better by now. Not over it, maybe, because losing a dad isn't something you just forget about, but I thought I'd feel closer to whole. I don't. I feel worse than ever. I feel like every day that gets closer to Father's Day, I think of one more way that I was a pretty bad daughter.
It's ridiculous. I was a great daughter. My dad and I had a lot of fun, and a lot of good talks, and spent a lot of time together. Truth be told, he would be the first to say that I was a far better daughter than he was a dad. But I still think of all the things we didn't do together, and lately I begin to cry at the slightest reminder that I will never talk to my dad again. It's hard to NOT think of all the things you didn't do, didn't say, all the ways you let him down. But I always did Father's Day right by him, that I know.
Every Father's Day, I went to church, then stopped and picked up food, then went to his house to watch the Sox game. That was our pattern every year since years began. He was a simple guy. I usually bought him a couple Sox t-shirts or something. But what he really wanted was to watch the Sox with me, just to spend time with me doing something he loved. That was the real present.
This year I decided I would leave town for Father's Day. I thought being away physically might also distance the pain emotionally. But a couple weeks ago, when I began to cry more regularly at the thought of this day coming, I realized that it didn't matter where I was. I'm going to cry on June 15th. I may even cry the whole day, even among strangers, even making people super uncomfy. Geography isn't going to stop me from remembering that I should be sitting in my dad's dusty living room eating pizza and listening to him tell me why the White Sox were the greatest team in the entire universe and Paul Konerko should be president of the world and Gordon Beckham should've won the Gold Glove the last three years and Alexei Ramirez should stay with the team at ANY COST and Robin Ventura is a genius and just you wait until Adam Dunn gets on a roll because he will blast every home run imaginable and have you seen Jose Abreu and what a steal he was and that brilliant Rick Hahn, etc., etc., etc. My dad loved the Sox and supported their every move. I still can't wrap my mind around the idea that he is gone and those conversations are over.
So here's how I will spend Father's Day. In Chicago. At a White Sox game. Family Sunday, which I realize sounds like I am torturing myself, but listen---I look forward to seeing dads with their daughters. It might make me sad, it might make me miss him more, but above all of that, I will remember my own father's delight when he realized that I loved baseball and he would have a child to watch with, to talk with. I will remember how he drove all the way through Chicago during rush hour so he could take me to Southlake Mall in Hobart, Indiana, so I could meet my favorite baseball player, Robin Ventura, how he laughed when I cried and said I reminded him of a girl he knew who met the Beatles. I will remember all the times he took me to SoxFest, such a waste of a ticket because he didn't care about autographs or anything--he just loved watching my reaction meeting players. I will remember all the Twins-Sox games we went to, and how he would roll his eyes and say, "Are you really going to wear that?" at my Twins gear. I will remember my dear old dad and our good baseball times as I watch loads of dear old dads with their kids, and I hope they all savor every second, because who knew you only get 65 years sometimes? I will cry, but I will be happy because Andre Rienzo is pitching, and my dad absolutely raved about him, and he is one of my favorite people on this planet. Maybe I'll splurge and get really good seats and just enjoy the game. Maybe I will buy an extra ticket for my dad, even though he probably won't make it. Maybe I am getting all my tears out now and there will be nothing left Sunday.
But the bottom line is, I will spend this Fatherless Day with the White Sox, who, in spite of my support for the Cubs and Twins, I really do love. I will always love them because they brought my dad and me together 22 years ago, and they kept our relationship solid up until the day he died. So see ya Sunday, Sox!
