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Tag: "Fathers Day"

Happy Father’s Day 2009

[ 0 ] June 21, 2009

Dear Dad,

Last year I posted this poem, and I plan to do so every year in your memory. I hope you know that it’s hard for me to do, I cry every time I publish this poem.

I think I was too young to really try to sort through all of my unresolved conflicts with you, your death, and really just everything in my life at the time. It’s the turning point in someones life and then you leave me. I don’t know if I’ve done my best, but I hope you are proud of me. The happiest moments in my life were when you said you were proud of me. The lowest, were when I knew you were disappointed, I remember all very clearly.

My son talks about you. He knows you are his grandpa, but he’s too young to know, well, yeah. One time he told me “Is grandpa at the store?”… no. He’s smart and funny, it’s hard to imagine how much you would of spoiled him. I can imagine you and him together.

Happy Father’s Day

This poem was written in 2005 and first published here in 2007.

In Everything, I Find You

I’ve been reading about you every day
each story is different
but in my heart its all the same.
A loss so great with little reward
you brought the family together, after breaking our hearts
It’s impossible to miss you more,
but each day I do.
Each day theres some memory fresh and new
that brings me back thinking about you.

My father, my friend, my protector
My laugh, my smile, my trust
My eyes, my tears, my brain
My humor, my heart, my kindness
My life…
Your reflection…
and theres no one else I’d rather be

By Matthew Henrickson
April 4th, 2005

You can also read last year’s Father’s Day letter.

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Father’s Day 2009

[ 2 ] June 18, 2009

I miss my dad. I don’t know why all these feelings are coming to me right now. I’ve been blogging about Father’s Day sales for weeks now, and it’s barely just hitting me that he will be gone another Father’s Day.

I don’t go visit him anymore, I don’t know why. When he first died I would drive out to the cemetery in the middle of the night just to be close. Close to him, his memory… I don’t know. Now I don’t even bother and I don’t know why. Why did I fight to keep his ashes near me and not visit him? Just so I’d be able to?

I think that’s why I dream about him so much. I remember him so clearly and I know I always will. Just everything about him. But I repress that, the memories sometimes, and it just comes out in dreams. Maybe to get back at me for not visiting him. Torturing me with thoughts of him still being alive.

Sometimes I see people that look like him and just feel the urge to talk to them. To see if they sound like him, or act like he does. It sounds stupid and childish. Maybe they have a piece of him. Sometimes they don’t even look like him, and I’m kidding myself.

I don’t even talk to my brothers/sisters from my dads side. I feel bad, but I never really connected with them, it was all kind of forced, or rather my dad was the glue. Edward was mean to me up until maybe 1-2 visits before he died. And when he died he acted like a child. Why did I have to be more mature?

I got more time with him than anyone, but I never took that for granted for one second. Did they ever think that maybe for that reason, it was harder on me than them? Unfortunately, they were without him for a while, I never was. I guess thats my resentment.

All these feelings never dealt with are now coming out in the weirdest ways. Like this post.

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