he’s gone and my heart is sad

I am sorry bloggers that I have been away so long, my father, my best friend, passed away almost three weeks ago and I miss him, more everyday.  I can’t write about him, not yet, so I am going to post my eulogy to him:

How do you say goodbye to someone who helped give you life?  How do you move on after you have spent the majority of your life counting on one person to get you through the everyday?  How do you wake up and not say good morning dad! (Okay let’s face it, my dad never would have been awake early enough for me to say good morning – anything earlier then 10:00 was ungodly to him)  The truth is, you don’t.  You don’t say good bye – you hope for see you later, you don’t move on, you just move forward and you don’t say good morning, you pray for his peace instead.

On July 21st, 2013, in the very early morning hours, the world, my world lost a hero, a father, a grandfather and a friend.  Edward Kenneth Milway was born on February 11, 1944 in Toronto, ON.  He was an only child to Albert Kenneth and Martha Mary and grew up in the city he loved.  Movies were a nickel or a dime depending on the theater and kids walked to school – both ways up hill in the rain and snow – barefoot, always barefoot.    Or at least that’s the story my father would tell me when I asked for bus fare to get to my own high school down the street.

When my brother and I decided to have a service for my father I immediately thought “who’s going to speak?”  Naturally, me being the talker in the family – the one who rarely shuts up, I knew it would probably be me, my father would have wanted that.   At the same time I knew I didn’t have much to say about his childhood.  He had it good.  Great friends and family, my nana and poppy who  loved and adored him right up to the day of each of their deaths, my grandfather in 1987 and my grandmother just a couple years ago.  What I will talk about is what I know for sure – my life with him for the past 32 years. 

My father, with me,  was a man of very few words – unless he had something important to say, then, I could never get him to stop talking, even when I desperately wish he would – because he was usually lecturing me or grounding me for one thing or another.  From a teenager, my father raised me to be the woman I am today – now that’s up to you to decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but for me, I will always be grateful to him because he let me make mistakes, carefully guiding me and protecting me to make smarter choices.  Now don’t get me wrong, our relationship was never perfect – he was trying to raise a teenage girl, predominately on his own and I was trying to BE a teenage girl, who was wild and crazy and free.  I am sure any man in attendance today can only imagine his fear at something happening to his precious little girl.  I was the only kid in my entire high school to have a ridiculous curfew in my senior year.  Midnight was the time my dad decided only bad things happen after that, so I was to be home by 12:00 – not 12:01, never 12:01 or else I felt his wrath in the form of a grounding and disappointment only a father can use.  As a 19 year old who wanted to party and hang out with her friends – this was a constant source of bitterness between us – now though, now that I am older and arguably more mature, I am grateful, I am sure the trouble I would have gotten into, had he allowed me to be free would have hurt me more in the end.    His encouragement in everything I have ever done or decided is why I do what I do today.  When I wanted to go away to University (to get away from the stupid curfew)  he took me to different campuses so I could make an educated choice – telling me not to choose a school based on how cute the male population was, or the proximity of the closest bar.  When I chose Trent, I knew secretly he was pleased as it was the closest school to home that I had applied to and my dad loved having me close by.  I’ll tell you a secret (I loved being close by too)

Having lived with my father most of my life I consider myself blessed – people say he was lucky to have me because I was his primary caregiver the last few years of his life, but it’s the complete opposite,   I wouldn’t be able to stand here today, if I hadn’t grown up loved, cherished and spoiled rotten by the man who was and always will remain my hero


XOXO daddy, I love you


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