Today my daughter is seven years, nine months and 29 days old. Three months and 2 days shy of her eighth birthday. It’s a pretty pointless thing to care about and I’m probably the only person on the planet paying close attention to this EXACT day and age, but when I was seven years, nine months and 29 days old, three months and 2 days shy of my eighth birthday, my Dad died.
I know as adults who are removed from this kind of loss or experience you might read that and simply think wow that must have been tough…or what a shame or…well that was a long time ago.
But for me it was the moment my life changed.
It’s not something I cry about anymore. I don’t write about it every night like I did as a teen. It’s no longer a label I care to be defined by. Kathy the girl who’s Dad died. Because I’m so much more now.
Kathy the mom and caretaker of three small children.
Kathy the wife to a strange Hawaiian man.
Kathy the person who is no longer interested in crying every night for things she cannot change and instead has become someone interested in consuming herself with things she can change.
But when I think about that little girl…something in me breaks again. I’m good now, life is good…but that little girl deserved so much better. That was a child who truly suffered. She had to wrap her mind around and cope with a pain that even adults find crippling.
Today I am looking at my seven year, nine months, and 29 day year old daughter and I am so happy that she did not wake up to find her Mom crying in her bed. I am so happy she will not have to think about cancer and funerals and death. I am so happy she will not feel the sharp pang of pain every time she begins to digest the magnitude of what it all really means.
Today she will dance on her Dad’s feet, she will cook with me in the kitchen, she will play draw with her sister, she will chase her brother, and she will write about her sweet dog in her journal. Her biggest challenge will be working up the nerve to dunk her head under water during swim lessons.
And for that I couldn’t be more grateful.
Now if I could just shield her and her sister and brother for seventy more years or so.
I don’t ask for much.
{ 69 comments… read them below or add one }
oh girl… hugs and love to you and cheers to your daughter dancing.
This is a lovely post. Kudos to you for being so strong and so insightful.
that’s the thing I fear most about my cancer. I was diagnosed 12 days before my daughter’s first birthday. I have to make it long enough for her to have memories of me. And then I have to make it long enough for her to have a childhood that’s not darkened by that kind of pain. I just want to protect her from all of this so she can have a happy carefree childhood.
Great post. What a great way to celebrate her birthday!
Celebrate life and enjoy it. I’m glad your daughter didn’t wake up to her mom crying and I hope that she never does have to.
It really makes it hit home how very young you were. It’s something that those of us who haven’t lost a parent can’t even begin to understand.
Beautifully written. Life is to be lived to the fullest. Pain is real, no doubt, but joy is so much greater.
I struggled with the choice of starting a family since I grew up with none. But you are right, our children need never know the suffering. And they will not!
My son has that kind of face in Mc D’s too…
I wish her luck on those swim lessons!
You managed to make me tearful and smile all at the same time. A beautiful post by a beautiful heart. x
Oh my gosh….what a beautiful post. Celebrate life today with your husband and children!
I was not sure I was reading this right, 7 yrs “shy” would mean your daughter is less than a yr old. But I assume that she is 7 and that made me wonder which is worse, no knowing a parent or having some real memories? I see this all of the time as a teacher and the sting is painful no matter what the age. Take care and enjoy life to its fullest every day.
As a child having some memories is of great value because, even when you are being ‘Trash whose dad died’, you can still take part in the cultural exchange (based around family life) that goes on with your peers.
Sweet and sad post all at the same time. much love for you today
I was 3 weeks shy of my 11th birthday. I get it.
What an amazing post – thanks for sharing!
Having not had this experience, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling today. A family friend of ours just died last week and his youngest just turned 8, and all through the funeral I found myself just thinking about the kids and what they might be thinking. As an adult, there’s no way to know. We just can’t imagine.
What a beautiful post, Kat! I wasn’t nearly the young age you were when your Dad died, but I too, remember the numbers when mine died. It was 3 days after my son’s and my birthday and the day before Thanksgiving in 2003. I’m so glad that it’s very different for your daughter….our little people should never have to experience the kind of pain that you did as a little girl. Boogie down!
Now I’m ashamed for every time I’ve lost my temper with my aging Father (90 this month). I hope I remember your post the next time he aggravates me and give him a hug instead.
What a beautiful and poignant post…. I, too, am a member of the club. My mother died when I was a teenager. I’m sure your daughters day will be very special for you….enjoy the day!
@ CoffeeJitters – you’re in my prayers…
Those secret dates not related to birthdays but to events in are lives are so poignant and gives us the depth of who we are. It especially touched me as I have those also. May you indeed have seventy more..!
Chris
I think I will be thinking the same thing as you. I was 18 , 3 weeks shy of leaving for college when my mom died of a heart attack. I was 4 months into my 29th year when I lost my dad to cancer. 4 of my siblings have surpassed my mom in age when she died. 3 weeks shy of her 52nd birthday. I am 4 .6 years away from that milestone.
It’s scary and sucks that we think in that way.
Hugs and hugs and hugs.
This shows such strength. It is a tribute to your dad in a way to say that this was a tremendously sad and important event in my life but it does not define me. Cherish the life you have and I hope joy washes over you as you watch your little girl dance on her daddy’s feet!
God bless you. As someone whose family has survived an enormous trauma, thank you for this post. Sudden loss does not go away; we live through it but we don’t “get over it.” It changes us forever. That’s okay; it becomes part of the texture of who we are. Prayers up to you today.
Thank you for sharing this. Even though I was 32 10 month as 23 days old when my dad died i felt like a little girl loosing her daddy. My son was 2 and my daughter was 3 weeks old. I think I was even more upset they wouldn’t know the amazing man I grew up.
I love reading the things you are grateful for.
This was beautifully written ~ poignant, heartbreaking and hope-filled.
Awwww, your writing is beautiful and you are so strong. I can definitely see why you count down to the day. It was life-changing and we ALWAYS remember those days.
I don’t think that is much to ask for at all.
I remember on my 20th anniversary sitting in the bathroom getting dressed when I realized that my marriage had outlasted both of my parents. I felt like I had broken a curse. I think probably what you are feeling is something kind of similar.
oh my goodness, I lost my dad at 26 and it was earth alterning for me, so I know how it felt to be that lost and I was an adult losing my dad. I love you….love you for knowing that about your children and celebrating them still having both of you, being grateful for the gift of their lives and yours.
Wiping the tears, you are awesome. :)
The was a really sweet and thoughtful post. Your daughter is a lucky girl, you sound like an awesome mama.
This is lovely. Now I need to go find a tissue.
Oh sweetie, this was beautiful. Last night my husband and I were out for dinner and we were talking of things such as this, you see I was 30 when my dad died and we were just saying how it affected me, the loss & grief and how much harder it must be to be young and have that happen. I truly send my hugs to you today…this was just a poignant and lovely post today.
always,
melody
This was truly beautiful, Kat. Thanks for sharing.
And thanks for the tears in my salad. :) It’s what I get for reading blogs at lunch time.
I know this feeling! I was 10 years 7 months and 15 days old when my father died! And i so hope with battling cancer now, that my children will never know this kind of gut wrenching pain! I hope they will always be on care of both my husband and me! As your children will never know the uncertainity of life in that way!!
Xoxo
I was eight and a half when my dad died. It was so hard to watch my twin girls pass that age. I get it.
Have you read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer? That book was like a trip back in time for me. I felt like Foer was inside my eight year old head.
Wow – I’m in tears. My sister has an eight year old daughter whose father (my brother-in-law) was diagnosed with Stage 4 Renal Cancer in November. We just spent a fabulous vacation at the beach together. But, we couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last vacation we’d all spend together. And, how in the world will my niece be able to begin to cope with the loss of her father when that awful day comes. My heart goes out to you. And, I’m so glad you see your blessings and were able to turn out so great, despite being deprived of your Dad for most of your life.
All My Best!
Oh, this post makes me seize up with fear. I think as a parent it is one of my biggest fears, leaving my daughter without me. I lost my mother at age 19, I cannot imagine losing a parent as young as you did. So glad your kids have you to count on.
Oh, Kat.. This was so beautiful and so painful and so honest.. It’s one of my favorite things you’ve written and will stay with me for a long time. Thanks so much for sharing. xo
Big hug. So beautiful. That’s all I can say.
Beautifully written. I am thankful that I still have both my parents; and I dread the day I know I will one day face.
Such a sweet post and so beautifully written. My mom lost her father (my grandfather) when she was young too. I think it still pains her to know that he was taken away from her so young and that he couldn’t live to see his grandchildren. I just know he’s watching down on all of us, just as I’m sure your dad is too.
Such a wonderful post. I feel so much sorrow for any child who loses a parent. I still have both of mine and can’t imagine not having them, but it must be such devastation to a child.
What a great post. I can’t imagine what it must be like as a child to go through such a loss or as an adult trying to help a child cope and grieve through it. She’s lucky to have such a great mom as you!
“but when I was seven years, nine months and 29 days old, three months and 2 days shy of my eighth birthday, my Dad died.”
That one sentence sucked the wind out of me.
It continues to amaze me how *I* heal as a result of parenting my children. It’s like I’m re-parenting myself at the same time.
((hugs)) to you today.
This post is beautiful. I don’t know that pain of which you describe, but I do know that instinct that causes us fear as we want to protect our children from all harm. Thank you for the reminder to love and live well every day.
I can’t imagine how you felt, but you are one strong woman. How amazing to be able to see that your daughter has it better and to be happy for her.
This has left me in tears because I know this pain.
I was two when my father died and I know what it feels like to have that void. I also know how much it means to know that your daughter doesn’t know that pain. I look at my little girl with my husband and a piece of me heals.
Truly beautifully written.
Sending you love.
My favorite line…”today she will dance on her Dad’s feet”…because it is the line I celebrate for your little girl. As a teacher I see such pain that children endure, and I want to cover them and hide them from it, and keep them safe.
You took something so full of pain and darkness in your soul, and filled it with a brilliant light in this post. But I know you still carry those pieces…so to you a cyber ((((hug)))).
Have you heard of #deaddadsclub ?
Because this belongs there.
Oh, this is so touching. I work with several children each year who lose a parent and there are no words I can find to help them.
So I just try to be there for them. And I hope someone was there for you, too. And your daughter? Adorable.
Thank you for sharing this. I can imagine it was hard to write.
Sending you hugs and well wishes…and when she does dance on her Daddy’s feet…video it and cherish it.
A deeply moving post about the depths we grieve. So glad your daughter is dancing with Pat today
I’m so glad she’s dancing today and that she won’t know that pain (hopefully for a VERY long time).
It wasn’t my dad that died….but, my daughter’s when she was 6 months old. She is now 13 1/2 years old.
She has always known death, always known a Mom who used to cry…all of the time, and still does on occasion for her Dad.
Be gentle with yourself today…and everyday that this is a subject.
This is so beautifully written. Hugs my friend. Your daughter is beautiful and I am so glad her mom is not crying today. xo
I just had chills run through me. I could not imagine that. I haven’t lost a parent but I did lose my brother at a young age and find that I am focused on dates, ages and the like. You are a strong woman and your post was so heartwarming and filled with courage.
Thanks for sharing this with us.
Beautiful, inspiring post. Hugs to you Mama! xo
Wow. This is such a special post. My dad died when I was 8 months old, so I never knew what it was like to have him around…..and then lose him. So sometimes, I think that was easier on me.
I can totally understand you relating your experience to your daughter’s age. Those memories stay with us a lifetime.
Beautiful. My eyes are watering. My hubby’s father died when he was young, and I can see the imprint every time he gazes at our son. xoxo
My heart goes out to that little 7-year-old Kat <3
Oh momma, I have no words……
That was a really beautiful post. Thank you for sharing such a personal experience with us.
A very generous post. Thank you for sharing.
This is one of the most touching posts I’ve read on blogs. Thank you for sharing this with us; it makes me want to hug my girls and hope that every day they will be happy and not have to experience something so painful it changes their life. Your strength and love of family inspires us Kat, that is why I return to your site time after time! So thank you for sharing this part of yourself with us.
This is so beautiful. Enjoy the dancing, and I hope you do some dancing of your own! The strange Hawaiian man would love it. :)
This is very insightful and lovely.
Children are just little people who haven’t yet had all the experiences adults have. They deserve our kindness and understanding.
Your daughter is beautiful. And so are you.
So beautiful and moving. Hugs to you. I can’t begin to imagine what that feels like, although I’m all to familiar with the concept of trying to protect my daughter from the other pains I’ve experienced.
You are such a strong and lovely lady.
A friend sent me your way. I was two weeks shy of my 8th birthday when my mom died, also from cancer. I love how you’ve captured this and how the way you’ve defined yourself changes. I nodded along as I read. Thank you for this, and hugs to you.
Kat, I adore you.
That really is all.
Keep counting those days. Every one is special. I lost my father while I was pregnant with my oldest and my mom when I was pregnant with my next child. I cannot imagine how that would have felt for a child with immature emotions.