
For The 29th Time I Say Goodbye – But Now At The Age You Were When I Lost You
By Paul Wein
On April 21, 1981, my father, Edward Wein, passed away at the age of 38 – when I was just nine years old. This past April 21st marked the 29th anniversary of his passing. While I still mourned and cried as I always do on that sad day – it freaked me out more than any other – because as of today – I can now say that I have outlived my father.
When children are young, they see anyone over the age of 30 as “old.” So when my dad died – I felt, as a naive child – that he lived a long and prosperous life. But now that I am his age – I realize that the long and prosperous life I thought he had lived was still way ahead of him – as I have so much more that I want to do before I join my father in Heaven.
It has been 45 days since the “anniversary” of his death – and it has taken me this long to write this column because quite frankly – I am “creeped out” by this. I now realize all that my father had ahead of him. From retirement, to High School reunions – to watching me grow up since I was nine when he died – I never realized as a young kid what was ahead of him…
…but I do now – as I am the age he was when I lost him.
I constantly compile a list of the things I wish he could be there for in my life. From sharing a beer, to watching a wrestling pay-per-view – and most importantly – being there the day I married my Julie – but sadly, he is not.
There are many people who have lost parents who can sympathize with me and my loss – but how many actually think about outliving their own parents at the age when they passed? I look at Beavis and wonder what he would do if I were gone now. He is going to be nine soon and loves me like there is no tomorrow as I loved my father – so how would he cope if I were gone from this Earth?
This year, I miss my father more than any other because there is so much I want to share with him. I want him to watch my wedding video. I want him to hold Beavis – and I want him to hug his daughter-in-law. It is a true shame that he cannot be here with me today to share in these happy memories – but I know he is looking down on me…
…and smiling.
I love you dad – keep watching.