My letter to Dad

Dear Dad,

It has been almost 5 years since you have gone to heaven.  And, for the most part it seems I have not had the “time” to grieve the loss.  With Brendan deploying right after you died, to giving birth to Kathryn followed by my PPD after that, then Kimberly’s pregnancy…losing my best friend tragically, Kims birth and so much after that.  I guess I sort of pushed it back so I wouldn’t have to deal with it just yet.  It seemed like so much was going on, that I didn’t have a second to just breathe and let everything out that I needed to.  And at the same time I feel so incredibly guilty for not taking the time to do that.

You were only 57 when you died.  Mom had just gone through cancer in the months leading up to your passing.  I think it was honestly Gods way of getting all of us together one last time. The last time we (all 4 kids, you and Mom) had been together was 8 years before at my wedding.  I can’t convey enough how thankful I am that we all had that time together.  I’m thankful but at the same time wish Mom hadn’t been sick and we could have all just gotten together.  But God works the way he wants and the way it happened was how he wanted it to happen. 

I’m so thankful that I had those 6 weeks with you when I was in TX.  I’m so thankful that I got to hear the same story over and over again because you never could remember if you had told me already. :) I will never forget laughing every night with mom because when helping you get ready for bed, you would tell me about how your pants were a size 32 again, or you telling Mom to “sleep with the angles” and her face when she would hear that. :) I’m thankful that I was able to get you out of the house, take you to your Dr. appointment’s at the VA, take you to the store.  We got to spend a lot of quality time together.  All of us kids got to have that quality time with you that last summer.  Honor, Aiden (as you called him Adrian), Allyson and baby Evan (or as you called him Even) got that time with you.  It was a lot of hard work and broke my heart to see what was once my big, strong dad withered away. 

I know you waited until Mom got the all clear that she was cancer free before you had to go into the hospital again.  It was 2 days later you were rushed to the hospital barely alive.  I wasn’t ready to let you go, but you were ready.  I hated that we had to jump on a plane and get back as soon as possible because I knew…I knew when we came back to CA, my Dad would be gone.  I know that you sometimes were confused after you woke up, but I know that you also knew your time was here.  I’m thankful that you were able to recognize us, though you couldn’t always communicate with us. 

Even though you were transferred to Hospice, we thought we had more time with you.  You were there for 12 hours before you took your last breath.  All of us were getting ready when Mom got that call.  We wanted more time.  But, you went on your own terms.  If I could never hear a sound again, it would be Moms cries.  I imagine though that after so many years married to the love of your life, that is how it sounds when the one you love passes away. 

Dad, when you died, I lost the first and most important man in my life.  That can never be replicated.  You taught me so much in the 29 years of my life that I had with you.  You taught me the importance of honesty and integrity.  While I don’t always do it, you taught me the importance of holding myself to a higher standard.  You taught me how to love, and how to be loved.  You were there and helped me, and you were also there to teach me right from wrong.  I don’t know if it was the fact that you are a Petterson, or your years in the Army, but you were very capable of getting the point across if I had made poor choices in life.  I have made many mistakes since you passed away, some are pretty bad when you look at it, but I know that no matter what you will still love me.

Thank you for being you and for loving Mom, Stacie, Will, Meagan and Me.  Thank you for being OUR Dad. 

I’m going to end this with a list of memories I (and Stacie, Will and Meg) have with you.  Some are mine, some are ours.

I remember living in Panama, seeing the helicopters landing in the golf course right next to our house.  You waved, but I didn’t know it was you.

I remember you singing a lot of goofy songs.  My poor kids and husband aren’t fond of that trait that was passed on to me.

I remember taking road trips with you and the one thing I learned from both you and Mom…You have to leave at “O Dark 30” in order to get there in time.  

I remember our family making “Family of the Year” when we were in Germany.

I remember you helping me with my math one night, and I just didn’t get it, but you kept on.

I remember you teaching me how to drive a standard transmission car and my friend Liz feeling carsick from all the jerking because I couldn’t shift smooth.

I remember you coming to me after I got pregnant with Honor telling me it was going to be okay and you and mom would help me.

I remember the first time you met Brendan and you hoped that Kelly had brought him over for me, and were as disappointed as I was that he had a girlfriend…lol, that lasted 

I remember you talking a lot with Brendan about his military career.  I am positive you have been one of the biggest influences in his career.

I remember all the help you and mom gave to Brendan and I.

I enjoyed that summer you and mom came out when I had Evan.

And most importantly, I enjoyed every minute we had with you.

When I look at some things, I can’t help but laugh.  I now refer to the following as you did: “Stoofers Lasagna” instead of Stoufers , “Chick-fil-aaaah” instead of Chick-fil-A,  “T-eye-vo” instead of TiVo.  I laugh every time I order the 30” pizza and remember your face when you first saw one. All of us kids have to stop and make sure we say "Chipotle and not Chip-oh-tle.  And of course when you were upset when Aiden wouldn’t answer you…but you kept calling him “Adrian”.

We are lucky to have these moments.  We are lucky that you raised us.  You and Mom.  With everything I have I want you to know just how much I love you and thank you.  I didn’t get the chance to say it all before you died, and I wish I had, but I’ve said it here, today, and I know you hear me. 

I love you Daddy.