Friday, November 26, 2010


Today marks the third year anniversary of my father's death.

I'll never forget waking up at 7am on Monday, rolling over and seeing the three missed calls. I called my voicemail, and hearing my mother's voice tell me "Julie, I think your father is gone..". I swear that my heart stopped that moment from shock. I turned off my phone, turned to Val and told him "Dad is gone.". And that's when my heart rebooted, and the tears couldn't stop.

My father had suffered the majority of his life from a collection of illnesses that were associated with the onset of his juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. His body was crippled by his autoimmune system.

And while he suffered for the majority of his life, his pain was not his identity. His joyful spirit shone through. He loved to laugh and make others do the same - his sense of humor was one of my favorite things about my father. He also had a thirst for knowledge - he loved history, fishing, sailing, construction, automobiles and DIY. When someone had a question, they could ask my dad. He could usually point them in the right direction. Have you ever read or flipped through the book "Back to Basics"? He was basically a human resource for that book.

He was and remains my greatest inspiration. He makes me want to be a better and more productive person, to get out there and see the things that he never had a chance to see.

The world lost an asset three years ago. I lost my father, one of my best friends, and my guidance counselor. The values he shared and the joy he brought to our lives will never be forgotten.


  1. Well said. I can't believe how much time has passed...

  2. It seems like 20 years and at the same time only yesterday he was here. I miss him so much, especially during the holidays. One of my customers at my old job summed it up nicely: You never get over the death of a loved one. You just learn to cope with it better.

    And lately I feel like I'm just barely coping. I think I really need to find a counselor or a therapist or a psychiatrist of some kind to help me get through this. Definitely feel some abandonment issues bubbling up. Not a pretty sight.

  3. I'm really sorry. I thought your dad was wonderful, and I only spent a little bit of time with him, so I can't imagine what you're dealing with. If I can be of any help, let me know.