Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Six years ago today

Six years ago today, my father died. In a hospice, without the face I remembered from my times, few and far between, with the man I didn't know was my father.

Six years ago today, I met my husband. At an open mic, in another state that would eventually become my home.

Six years ago today, I had no idea my father was dying. No idea he might have cried out for me or reached for me or whispered my name to a passing nurse.

Six years ago today, I had no idea the drummer with the Ohio accent would become my husband, or my friend or the father of my child.

Six years ago today, I had it all and felt free for the first time ever and I loved every second of it.

Six years ago today, despite the freedom, I was lost, looking for myself and who I wanted to be.

Six years ago today, despite my efforts, my father was lost, looking for me.

Six years ago today, the stars aligned and fates crossed and my father, my husband and myself became forever intertwined. Whether I was ready, or not. And I wasn't ready. To be in love again. To lose the father I'd only started searching for, to find...me. But I did.
7-21-2010
To my father,

Today Lilliana's eyes sparkled the way yours used to. The times I saw you. It took me back, caught me off guard, to see you in there rattling around in her glare. I felt like you saw me through her eyes, or she saw me through yours. I couldn't tell. But in that instant, I felt you around us, thickening the air, filling my lungs with your presence. It only lasted a second, but I tried to hold on to it. I tried not to let go. And then she looked away and the air was thin again and my lungs struggled for breaths, the way they always will without you around.

If you could do that again, so I know you see me, so I know you hear me, the cracks in my heart could start to heal. Until the day I die, I'll hurt for you. I'll miss you. And most of all, I'll love you.

Love,
Your only daughter

Candyland. Out.

33 comments:

Unknown said...

Candace this was beautiful. You had me crying through the whole thing, pain is something that I wish no one had to go through but you are so strong and special to this world.

Thank you so much sharing. This was wonderful. Truly inspirational.

Creepy Query Girl said...

Candy, that was beautiful. I firmly believe that your father is watching over you. They live on in you and your daughter and its wise to see the strings that intertwine everyone and everything in life.

S.A. Larsenッ said...

I'm simply going to ditto Jen and CQG. He's watching...and proud. You're a good mommy and wifie. *smiles*

Patty Blount said...

I'm so sorry to hear about your dad. (Losing mom to cancer now.)

So beautifully written, I felt like you were in the room with me. Stephen King calls writing 'telepathy' but this... this was so much more.

Thank you for sharing.

TAWNA FENSKE said...

This is truly lovely. Fate is an amazing thing, and so are you.

Tawna

kah said...

So so beautiful. Wherever he is, his soul is filled with love and pride.

Fate has done a lot in 6 years.

Janet Johnson said...

Wow. Beautiful is the best word for it. I'm sorry for your loss, too. Thanks for sharing.

Lydia Kang said...

You are so brave for posting this. I'm sorry for your loss, yet happy for the fact that you keep living (vividly, I might add!)

Unknown said...

So beautiful yet so heartbreaking. Remember that even though the memories you had growing up were painful you have the opportunity to make sure your daughter never has to experience any of that. :) For every hug you received give her 3.

Unknown said...

BTW I also got your banner up on my blog. Sorry it took so long :/

Jaydee Morgan said...

Beautifully written and powerful. You share so much of yourself through your words and it reaches out and touches everyone around you.

Valerie Kemp said...

That was beautiful. What an amazing twist of fate. Thanks for sharing!

Kimber said...

That was beautiful. I am so sorry to hear about your father. I lost my mother a month ago, so I can relate to what you are going through. Stay strong.

Patti said...

What a nice tribute. Sorry for your loss.

LTM said...

gorgeous--love it. Love how you captured the way our kids carry that spark of the ones we've lost.

My oldest will smile at me sometimes and I see my g'mom who died four months after we moved back here. The air really does get thick and then thin again. But that's how they live on, right?

good stuff~ :o)

Dianne K. Salerni said...

I know everybody has already said it, but this was beautiful. So much in one day, and such a pivotal point in your life.

Give your daughter and your husband a hug. I'm sure you probably already have.

Tahereh said...

i am hugging you so hard right now.

you're a beautiful human being, candace.
<3 you so much.

Rose Cooper said...

This was beautiful and I'm so sorry about your father. Fate works in amazing ways and you have a beautiful family to show for that. You're an incredibly strong person, thanks for sharing so much of this with us.

Talli Roland said...

This was so lovely, so emotional and beautifully expressed. There's nothing more I can even say about it, just... beautiful.

Lenny Lee said...

im sending you lots of love and hugs

Erin Kane Spock said...

I read your blog to laugh, not to cry. What's up with that.
Seriously though, thank you for sharing. That was a beautiful post.

My 5 year old is named Lilian, btw. Great minds, you know. :)

Riv Re said...

I'm barely holding back tears. If your book has even 1 millionth of the emtion and depth this has, they'll have to hold me down to keep me from breaking in to your house and stealing it.
*big bear hug* I'll go burn a virtual orange DD cup for you, if that'll make you feel better.

PS:I also have a little present for you, on my blog, Fantasy Fanatic. The post hasn't been written yet, but you're going to be there. (It'll be up within the hour, I hope.)

*hugs again*

Unknown said...

BFF this brought tears to my eyes! I guess in life you never know how things will go. The only sure thing is that things change. You are such a strong person, much stronger than you know, and I think its great that you can express yourself so openly here. I'm sure your dad is very proud of what he sees when he watches over you <3 Miss you boo!

Robyn Campbell said...

Candy, (may I call you that?) I ask, because my niece would rather be called the more grownup Candace.

As I read this post this evening, I was taken aback. Because I could feel your sadness, but I also felt your joy. Joy about your daughter. And joy that you found yourself and your soul mate.

Your writing is lovely. No wonder you're a writer.

My father died from kidney cancer almost 12 years ago. When Ivy was just 2 weeks old. We will see them again. And then we will have FOREVER. *hugs*

middle child said...

This was so very beautiful.

Lola Sharp said...

I felt this, down deep. I'm sorry for your loss, and happy for your love. Thanks for sharing.

As for your contest, it IS on my sidebar...it has been for a while now. :)

I'm sorry I haven't been around much...we just got home last week from a long vacation, and aside from getting unpacked, laundry caught up and having out of town guests this weekend, there have been 'things' in my life that is sucking my time and energy. (I haven't written, or even opened my word.doc in weeks) I just haven't had much time. I'm trying to do/be too many things right now.

Happy Humpday, friend! :)

Love,
Lola

Vicki Rocho said...

Sniffle. I ache for you. I hope sharing this with us brought you a measure of peace...you deserve it!

Vicki Rocho said...

Oh, on an UP note, I saw that New Medicine is coming to town (I about fell out of my chair) but I think I'm out of town that weekend. Soooo figures.

Buffy Andrews said...

Lovely post. I echo what everyone else has said. Blessings to you, Buffy

Laura Pauling said...

Sorry to hear about your dad. A heartwarming glimpse into your life. Thanks for sharing.

Sharon K. Mayhew said...

Candace, I'm sorry for your loss. Congratulations on finding the strength to move forward. Often times people get stuck in their grief. Your tribute to your Dad, your daughter and your husband was beautiful!

Matthew MacNish said...

Sorry I missed this but I saw your link on Facebook today and had to come check it out. Thanks for sharing this with us Candace.

Linda G. said...

*Hugs*

Thank you for a beautifully written post. My dad died when I was twelve, and even now, when I see some small part of his heritage looking back at me through the eyes of my children, I can get weepy. But now it's in a good way. Sure, I still miss him, but I realize the best parts of him live on. It's a comfort. :)