Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

The day is half way gone and I've spent most of it trying to ignore the obvious, but I won't let it go by without acknowledging you. I'd never do that. It's been 26 years to the day that you were taken from me. 26 years. I've come to terms with the fact that I don't know how to grieve. I don't know how to properly and healthily process what happened. I feel like I start the grieving process over and over again. It never stops. It doesn't get better. It never gets "easier." I hate myself sometimes because I can't remember what your voice sounds like. That drives me crazy. 1991 didn't have the technology of today so I don't have any recordings or videos or anything where I can just hear your voice. I daydream about how different my life would be of you weren't taken from me. I think about the impact you would have had on who I turned out to be as a person. I feel like there is a void there that will never be filled. That could never be filled. Had I known we only had five years to squeeze in a lifetime of memories, I would have fought to spend more time with you. I would have spent all of my time with you. All I have left are fading memories, and stories of your past from people who knew you better than I did. Every once in a while I have to tell one of your old teammates that you're no longer with us. They stare at me with pity in an awkward silence. It's been a pretty weird couple of decades.

It amazes me how some of these young fathers don't make a point to be in their children's lives. They just don't realize how lucky they are. I'm a mom and parenting is this crazy, joyful, amazing, stressful, and magical experience that I cherish wholeheartedly. I don't know if you've noticed, but you have two amazing grandsons lol. My oldest looks a little like you. Back in the day, I remember being soooo extremely jealous of the girls who got to bring their dads to the "father-daughter dance." I didn't want to ever go. I always had a male family member step up to fill in the gap... but in all honesty, I felt so envious of the girls that got to spend time with their dads.

I built an emotional wall when it came to dealing with loss and uncomfortable situations. I never got the opportunity to just cry about losing you.. partially because I was so worried about why everyone else around me was sad and partially because I didn't fully understand what was happening. I was a kindergartner. My mind wasn't fully developed. I was familiar with the words being said but I didn't always understand what they meant. I remember the moment my mom tried to tell me you died. She picked me up from school and we went to Granny's. She took me into the nice living room with all the white furniture and I instantly knew there was a problem. We never went in there. Something is wrong. I remember her saying things but I don't recall the words. The more she spoke, the harder she cried. I tried to block that out. It made me nervous to see her crying. I just kept thinking whatever is going on, I don't want to know. I cry often now. It's random and sporadic. Sometimes the tears just come out of nowhere.

I remember funeral and the stupid funeral program that has my name spelled wrong. It pissed me off every time I looked at it. I'm your DAUGHTER. Your ONLY CHILD and they couldn't get my name right. I honestly think it angers me so much because I don't have anyone to blame for you not being here. God doesn't make mistakes. The police didn't even TRY to find the person who shot you. (My mom freaked out when I found a copy of the police report... she doesn't want me to read it.) So who do I blame? My last vivid memories of you are either in a hospital bed from your motorcycle accident or in the casket after you were murdered. It's been heavy baggage on my heart for 20+ years. It's not fair. Life isn't either, I guess. I hate when people die and others tell them it will get easier. It doesn't. At least not for me. You just have to find a way to cope with it and live. You can't let yourself die with the person you lost. They wouldn't want that. I know I'm here for a purpose. I'm still in the process of learning and figuring out what that it is. I try everyday to be the best person and mother I can be. I'm well on my way to living my best life. I hope you are proud. I hope you continue to stay by my side in spirit. I miss you, Dad. I love you, Dad. I wish you were here...

Love,

Ash ❤️