Personal Revelations

Harold Brender - Dad, Hero

Hi Everyone.

So sorry for my long absence. Despite being busy and connected in other areas of my life, and maybe because I've yet to get the hang of any kind of rhythm or content balance here, I've had a difficult time approaching my blog since my last post.

As it happens, 2016 was a year of tremendous loss and transition for me and my family. My dad spent February to May in the hospital where he passed, just a few weeks shy of his 80th birthday. Admittedly, I have the desire to share details of the story but I'm also at odds with what is appropriate to the occasion. Maybe I should just say that my dad fought illness and complications due to illness for the better part of 30 years. With my mom at the helm, it brought us all closer together, and my dad not only survived but thrived between each crisis. He was heroic. He never complained. And he was our rock and safe haven always. It's a tough pill to swallow that he's no longer here and the world surely seems a little less bright.

No doubt, as many of you may recognize the feeling after losing someone you love, the months after his passing felt surreal. How can the sun still rise and set every day like nothing happened? But the world does march on and we're left trying to figure out how the pieces fit back together, knowing some of the original ones will remain missing. 

In retrospect, I do still have some positives to take away from last year. I tried so many times to post before now, never managing anything that sounded normal to my ear. They'll be for future posts. In January I wanted to send you all greetings for the New Year, but I just wasn't ready yet to let go of the last one. It felt like letting go of my dad all over again. 

But the time has come. If you've read this through, thank you so much for listening. I wish you a beautiful 2017, a year that's happy, healthy and full of all the things success looks like to you.

Dad, if you can hear me somehow, I'm dedicating this year to you. You deserved so much better than you got. Thank you for teaching me to cherish the little things, and thank you for making me the luckiest girl on the planet. Honestly. Best dad ever.

Aimée