Some days always stick with you more than others. It makes sense, not every day has a special event, sad or beautiful. One of the dates that is forever etched in my memory is January 11, 2005. Yesterday, 20 years ago. And that was the date that our dad died from lung cancer. Now you might think, twenty years! Gosh, that's just an eternity. And yes, it is a long time, but when I think of him, it feels like it was only yesterday. It feels like it was only a short time ago that he was always somewhere nearby. It feels like I could go to him yesterday to share something with him. Ask him something or just be with him for a while. Maybe it feels that way because, despite his quiet nature, he was always so present in our lives.
He was a man of few words but with a strong personality. He was a rock in the surf, someone who was always there for others. As a carpenter, foreman, and teacher, he was not only handy and creative, which we and so many others benefited from. But in addition to his creative side, he was also patient. He always gave my sister and me the space to make our own mistakes and learn from them. But when it was necessary, he was certainly always there to give us a push in the right direction. His wisdom, his calm manner, and his ability to support you in the way you needed at that moment are things I will never forget.
When he became ill, it also brought us closer together as a family. You have no choice, you can't get stuck in it, you have to move on. But in that time you also learn how strong family ties are. The lung cancer, caused by exposure to asbestos at a time when the dangers were not yet known, was a harsh reality. He had the small cell variant, an aggressive form that quickly spreads. Despite that, he did not let himself be discouraged. Even when he was so sick, he kept fighting to keep going. We also made many beautiful memories in the year and a half that he was sick, especially with Micky! And despite everything, he remained the man we knew. Someone who, despite his problems that he didn't want to talk about, was there for us. He supported us and tried to pass on his strength to us.
His death shaped me. The loss was painful, especially because life goes on and you have to experience important moments without him. But it also made me stronger. I realize now more than ever how important it is to make memories and to enjoy life while you can.
Yesterday I didn't do anything special to remember him. You might expect that, but that just didn't suit Dad. That may sound crazy, but he was never someone who liked to dwell on difficult moments. "Life goes on," he would say. And that's what I do too. I think of him often, not just on this day. He is present in the things I do. When I am working with pyrography, for example, I know for sure that he would have loved that. He spent hours in his garage, working with wood and creating something beautiful. Wood was his passion, and it feels strange on the one hand, and good on the other hand that I now, years later ... also started working with wood. Admittedly more because my partner is just as passionate about working with wood as our dad was. As far as that is concerned, I still think it is a shame that our dad never knew my partner. They would have spent hours together in the garage.
Because I have now started working with wood myself, I often suddenly feel a little connected to our dad at those moments. And in a way, it also seems like a nice way to commemorate him. To commemorate a special man precisely by not standing still, but by living, and working on passion. Just as he did until the last moment he could.
What I learned from losing our dad is that life is fragile. We never know what tomorrow will bring. He, and our mom too, showed me how important it is to enjoy the little things, to cherish the moments with the people you love. Memories are all that remain.
Make the little things count. Today is more important than you think because tomorrow everything can be different.
