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Dad is gone

  • Writer: bobgraybosch
    bobgraybosch
  • Nov 15, 2018
  • 1 min read

I grew up in a small, 2 bedroom, Cape Cod house in Mishawaka, IN. At the time of my birth our home only had 2 bedrooms. My two brothers in one and me and Mom & Dad in the other. There were plans for more room, but for the time being, it had to do.


On March 31, 1964 he came home from work with a terrible headache and laid down. That night, Mom put me to bed in their room in my crib (I had just turned 3).


In the middle of that night I awoke to paramedics in our room working on my Dad. Mom saw me awake and said "You're going to go to the Nimtz's house for a few days". Mom made the decision to keep me from the passing, wake, and funeral as she thought I was too young, and this was too difficult.


A few days later I came back home and everything was normal to my 3 year old eyes except Dad was gone. I have only three memories of my Father. Hugging him when he came home from work; him showing me a sled he made for me; and the night he died. Over time I guess I just sort of figured it out, because I have no memory of being told Dad was gone.


While Mom mean't well, I have had a tough time dealing with this to this day. I trust no one; I have a really hard time getting close to anyone.


Always allow the grieving process to take place no matter how tough you think it may be.



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Born in South Bend, Indiana, I have spent much of my life in the Midwest. I was never really content about that area of the Country. somehow, by some divine intervention and the beginnings of a plan, we sold everything and moved to Lahaina, HI in the Summer of 2006 to start over with no job, a sight unseen condo to live in, and a few boxes of precious items. I have not looked back since...

 

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