This is my blog...this is my blog about my pursuit of the golden ticket into advertising. But today, I don't feel like writing about that. You see, today, is the fourth anniversary of my dad's passing. A day that not only will never be the same, but one that defined who I am and the kind of man I aim to be, four short years ago.
June 22nd is a normal day to most, but to me, it's the day I held my dad's hand as he took his final breath. Regardless of the struggle he endured over 18 months of chemotherapy and prescription drug use, he smiled and endured, soaking up every chance he had to show me & my brother the stuff we weren't supposed to learn yet; the stuff that he was supposed to teach us as we grew in our adult lives. It was painful, humbling and precious all at once. Tears come to my eyes as I type this because I can hear the words, the advice he wanted us to have before he was unable to give it.
He told us time is precious. To say say that, would be an understatement. I watched a man, a young man in today's standards (51) have the unfathomable happen to him - to be told his life would be cut short. But instead of saying "why me" he said "what's left to do" He loved harder, shared more, and laughed louder. I couldn't imagine his thinking; but I saw what he was doing. He was showing us that we'll be alright. We'll be able to live and live well without him. I will love him forever for that in particular.
I've watched over the years as my mom, brother and I have moved forward. We've become closer as a family. We use Father's Day to remember together. And this past one was a bit easier than the last. Everyday with added sentimental meaning is easier than the last. It's how things are. You move on, but you never forget; and that's why I'm posting this, because a day will not pass, I don't forget.
This isn't a post to describe his positive attitude. There are millions of instances, like this, where people see the light in darkness. Was he a saint, no; but, he was my dad, which puts him on a podium many can't touch. The funny thing is, we were never a sit down and talk things out kind of father-son type. We were the ones who would yell about it, until someone gave in. That was the competitive nature that we both were blessed with. Surprisingly, with everything that was not said, said and done, I don't regret our relationship. I remember the hugs, the comments of praise and the moments we just sat, saying/doing nothing. Those are the ones that you tend to miss the most.
The whole point of this is to not bring tears to everyone or even myself. It's for everyone to know that at 21 years old you should be too young to learn these lessons. I did though and I've never been prouder of myself. I'm able to see the big picture now, and it has the potential to be a masterpiece.
You know someone once told me I'm young in age, but have an old soul. I only have one man to thank for that, and it's not me.
Do yourself a favor, enjoy the moments you have with your father...nobody deserves to go through those moments without one.
For my Dad.
Mark Wills
January 3, 1955 - June 22, 2006
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