On this day, in 1995 - my father died. He had a heart attack in the basement. My mom did CPR, but wasn't able to revive him. I was just shy of my 15th birthday.
It's amazing the things that go through your mind when someone dies. I was a kid, I had no idea what was going to happen - but I was surrounded by my mom, brother and lots of aunts/uncles and the best cousin/friend a girl could ask for - and I made it through.
I think about all the things my father has missed being a part of in my life (and my brothers); how he would have looked on my wedding day; seeing him with his first grandchild (there are 7 now). I wonder how many dogs he would have; if my parents would still live in the same house or if they would have sold it and moved out to the country like he always wanted to.
I think what gets me the most is that my kids will never meet him. They know who Papa Rick is - and Julien likes to visit his grave (it's on the water, so he always says Papa Rick lives on the water).
Today, is 16 years since he died. 16 years I have lived without my father, that's more time than I even had him with me.
Love you daddy