To My Readers...

Welcome to "Dear Dad"

"Dad" in this case is Peter George BeVard - February 13, 1953 - June 18, 2006.

Even as I type those dates, I cannot not believe that there was an expiration date on a man like my father.

My dad was an amazing father. I learning that when I became an adult and stopped hating him for not letting me get bad grades, or drive with teenagers, or wanting to know where I was all the time. As an adult we were able to appreciate each other and not get so annoyed that we were so much a like.

I talked with him on the phone on a daily basis, he took me to lunch frequently, I went to his hockey games when I could and he even went on a business trip with me once to see what I did for a living. There aren't many dads who would do that, and the gesture did not go unnoticed.

We loved spending time together and much of that time we were laughing. I even had a boyfriend request once (when we were scheduled to go bowling with my father that night) that we aren't so loud because it embarrassed him when we did our loud belly laughing. Needless to say that relationship didn't last long.

I remember my last argument with Dad, it was May of 2006. We got in a fight over when I was going to pick up my car (which he borrowed while his was in the shop). We are both incredibly hard headed and clearly had different thoughts about how we should get the car back to me. It was so stupid, but I am always thankful that he lived a few weeks past that fight, so it wasn't my last memory.

I remember our last conversation, it was June 17, 2006 the day before Father's Day (and my sister's 21st birthday) and I was calling to see what he wanted to do to celebrate. I was walking down the street where I was vacationing in Abingdon, VA, he was moving some of his girlfriend's stuff into storage. We joked around a little bit about him "smuggling things into storage so he would have more room for his hockey trophies," and decided that the next day I would go to his 2 hockey games and then take him out to dinner.

The next morning I woke up to several messages on my cell phone, which had been silenced during the night since I was staying in a room with my Aunt and cousins. A bunch were from my baby sister, Katelyn, one was from a hospital, and one was from my boyfriend, Brett. All I could think was, "Great, Katelyn was celebrating too hard for her 21st birthday and got alcohol poisoning."

She was the first person I was able to reach by phone and she alerted me that I was wrong about the assumed bad news. Our father had a heart attack. He did not make it.

I still remember the long drive home from Abington, VA feeling numb, with moments of bursting out into tears. Sometimes life feels like that ride home.

Don't get me wrong, I love my life. Since June 2006, I married Brett, had 2 beautiful boys (Peter and Aaron), bought my first home, and live a life I have always wanted. But there is one thing missing, and he isn't coming back.

Sadly, many of the joyous moments in my life are pained by the realization that my dad isn't there with me. To walk me down the aisle, to see my kids born, to see my kids grow. And the hard times are worsened because the one person I always called on isn't on the line.

Until my husband bought me a navigation system for my car I would always joke that, "I was lost without my dad... no seriously, I used to call him several times a week because I was lost driving somewhere." But really, I am still lost.

Four years later, I still find myself bursting into tears, wanting to tell him about a new milestones the kids have reached, a funny thing I saw on TV, what is going on with our hockey team (DC is finally a hockey town, you wouldn't believe it!!!),... how much I miss him.

So, here is my self therapy... "Dear Dad"

A place where I can go to write letters to my father about everything I wish I could tell him.