Here I sit at day 86 of my quit. My quit is good and my quit is strong. I gave thanks last week for my new family of quitters that have blessed my life and give me the strength to be quit every day. I give thanks to my immediate family that supports me every day.
Today is a sad day for me and I didn't know where to express how I was feeling so I figured I would come here. Today is the one year anniversary of my father's passing. I give thanks for every day I had with him.....even the bad days before he left us. He was my hero. A man that never missed a day of work. A man that cared for my mother for several years before she passed. A man that taught me how to compete and be better than I thought I could be. With few words he could say what takes me forever to get across. As I've referred to him so many times. He was John Wayne in my life. There was nothing he couldn't do. I watched him hit balls out of park when coaching my brothers teams when he was in his late 30's. He did it with my teams when he was in his mid 40's. No shit.....looked at one pitch, second pitch dead center, half way up the light pole. John Freaking Wayne I'm telling you.
I miss him rolling into the house after church with his travel mug of coffee, sitting on the couch and breaking down my son's baseball game from the previous day....Or about his Doctor's appointments the previous week in great detail. Then, all of a sudden, he'd stand up and say, "Well. I gotta go." And off into the sunset he'd walk.....so to speak. He was funny with a dry sense of humor. I didn't see that side too much until my mom passed. I am so glad I did. He love his grandkids, my wife who took care of him several times while I was out of town. Most of all, he loved my son, Drew. He never missed a ball game and was so proud of him. I miss debating hitting philosopy with him like it was religion. Well, it's pretty close to that in our house. I miss him sitting on my back deck watching a Steelers game, drinking a couple of Rolling Rocks, falling asleep and as the Steelers score, him popping his head up and saying, "Yeah.....Big Ben!!!!" Then looking around giggling a little with his eyes all red.
I think I'm going to try to let the sad go for a while and just give thanks for the 45 wonderful years I got to spend with him. I'll drink a couple Rocks and think about him hitting home runs, calling pitches from the stands when I was in High School, trying to teach me to change the oil in my car while I stood in the drive way dribbling a baskeball and shooting hoops, letting me slide the first time I came home drunk and my mother was asleep in her chair. The next day making me do 4 or 5 hours of yard work in the FL heat. Well played, dad.
Most of all I will think about how proud he would be of me for my quit. He quit smoking, cold turkey, when he was around 44. Never looked back and never had another cig. He was an original Rock Star, quit Gladiator. I'll quit with and for him today.
If you're reading this. Thank you for listening. I'm starting to feel better.
DiplessinJax
