I sit here tonight and am feeling a pull to my heart. This Sunday is my Dad's birthday. He has been gone 33 years. I was just a kid of 13 when he passed away. The loss is still painful. He was my idol. All I ever wanted was to be just like him.
I remember being outside and playing pass with him and when I wanted to play Sparky league baseball him pitching to me and teaching me how to hit. Then when I played softball him coming to watch me play. I remember one time when it was our 1st game after a tournament that our coach had brought in all these players to help us win (we didn't) and it was pouring down rain. I was standing next to our coach and Dad pulled up and rolled the window down and told me to come on because if I wasn't good enough to play in the tournament then I sure as hell wasn't good enough to play in this shit. He taught me how to bowl and fish. When I played basketball he would come to practice and watch. He was great. He would tell me that I was doing a good job but never tried to coach me on the things I should or shouldn't be doing. He just told me to do the best I could.
When he died I lost more than just him. I lost my mom as well. She didn't know how to deal with him being gone let alone dealing with a child that was more like her husband than any of her other children. From that time on I was pretty much on my own. I lost my desire to play basketball. Mom would show up but it was more because she felt like she should instead of wanting to be there. I kept playing softball because I think I enjoyed it more.
I hope I make him proud. I wish there was some way that I could know that he is OK with my transition. He is the only person in my family whose opinion would ever make a difference in what I do or how I live my life. I want him to look down and be proud of me. I am taking my girlfriend with me on Sunday when we go to the cemetery.
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