Friday, September 20, 2013
The Worst Day
I tell myself every Father's Day, and every April 11th on his birthday, that I need to try not to be sad, because those are the days to celebrate that he lived. I had my father for 19 years, and that's more than a lot of people get. September 20th, I tell myself, that's the day I get to be sad, because that's the day he was taken from me, from all of us. In a castle in the Netherlands, six years ago when I should have been enjoying my study abroad trip, I got the call that would change my life forever. My Dad had died. Suddenly, tragically, without any sort of warning and so, so far away from me.
It's okay to be sad today.
But it's hard to muster up the tears this time, with so many wonderful things on the horizon, and so many wonderful things that have happened in just the past year. I'm not sure what I believe in regards to what happens after you die, but if it's possible that you go on and can touch the lives of those you loved in even the smallest of ways, I know Dad probably had a hand in gently guiding all of the love, experiences, and opportunities that have come my way in the past year. I love you Dad, I miss you every single day. If you're listening, I hope you're proud of me.
Erik Sture Blom, 4/11/60-9/20/07
More writing about my dad...