oddityodyssey

So a year ago today my father died. He had been sick for a few months but took a sharp dive at the beginning of May. Liver failure was the culprit. He was 53 at the time. A week later I gave the eulogy at his memorial service. I can't quite fathom how I managed through it. I spoke with a clear voice about the man that had raised me, taught me a special kind of respect for women, instilled the idea of personal virtue and responsibility, stood by me through my own horrid shit and taught me how to work on jewelry.
I didn't always agree with my father. Our politics were different and caused a lot of friction. But we shared a love of music, the mechanics of cars, and an interest in the world. He was as much a friend as he was a father. A rare thing in this world. I respected and loved him, even if I didn't always like him. He was more than just a nice man or a good man. He was a man I looked up to and try to live my life by the values he held.
It's been a year, a hard year. I still feel him looking over my shoulder. I miss him dearly but couldn't have made it this far without his strength. I don't know what he would think of me right now. All I can do is try to make him proud.