I can't stop thinking about my dad lately and I guess it's because April 18th is coming just around the corner. The last time I was at my dads grave (February 17th), I left a picture of Bee poking out of the foam core that was in flower vase. My mom went there today... all the flowers, the American flag and the foam core was blown away by the wind but the picture of Jena was still in the bottom of the empty vase. When she saw it, she called me crying. She goes there on a bi-weekly basis and never saw it until now. We both got choked up and started reminiscing our regrets and our happy times with him. There's so much more I regret though. The hardest one came to memory just randomly while I was driving back this weekend from a trip to Richmond. Not much else to do on a 4 1/2 hour drive... My dad slept in the bedroom, my mom slept on the couch in the den. At night my dad would call her but my mom isn't a light sleeper by any means, however, I've never really been able to sleep at night (until I had kids) and I would be awake in my room listening to him call her and I'd ignore it. If I needed something, I would take a detour so he couldn't see me walking by his room. I guess having all the rooms set in an circular fashion allowed for that. Then when I moved to college, I could hear him calling for my mom in my room and I'd get homesick, hop in my car, drive home, and do the same thing... just listen to him call her, me or anyone. On the rare occasions that I did answer, I copped an attitude and told him people need to sleep and he should only call when he needed something. Aren't I just so nice?
Then after I met my husband, he only wanted to talk to him. When I'd go in there to talk to him, he'd ask for my husband. My mom let me in on a little secret... when we were visiting, he wanted to sleep with his dentures in, in case my husband popped in to talk to him.. he didn't want to be without his teeth. My dad didn't deserve MS, and he didn't deserve the way he was treated.. even if I was young and stupid. Even if I was treating my parents the way all kids treat their parents. Wishing I was something better now is a mout point, that much I understand, but it doesn't hurt any less. And the only thing I can do is stress to people to tell your parents you love them and to thank them for everything they've done.