His Baby Girl: Rolling With The Punches

In November 2004, I lost my father. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and my mother, sister, and I were going Christmas shopping. I remember seeing him so happy, and so lively that morning.

My father, up to that point, had suffered quite a bit physically and emotionally. A massive heart attack in the early summer of 1999 changed his life, along with the lives of those who loved him. It’s interesting when you can look back at your life and pin point the exact moment you left childhood behind.

fb_img_1487951578959
Favorite Picture: Daddy and Me

As my mother and sister prepared for a long day of shopping, I headed over to the bank, right across the street, to withdraw some money. My father was busy, with I really don’t know what, but I did the horrendous mistake of pulling up to the house, and just waiting for my sister and mom to join me. I didn’t take advantage of the time I had left with him to say goodbye…to hug him…to give him a kiss. Instead, I impatiently waited in the car for my mother and sister. Foolish young girl. If you only knew. You were daddy’s little girl. You were his baby. How could you be so stupid and selfish to not get off the car to say goodbye? I want to say that I waved goodbye to him, but I’m not sure if that’s something my mind created to comfort my soul.

Hours later, we returned home to find our world turned upside down. My father passed on November 27, 2004. It took me quite a while to truly grieve his loss, not because I wasn’t sad, but because of what he taught me. Unfortunately, my biggest regret of not saying goodbye haunted me for years, until a therapist finally had me admit the source of my pain. I’ve learned to not take our days with our loved ones for granted. My family will hear daily how much I love them.

I’d have to say though, I found strength in those hours of darkness because of my father. I could’ve let my father’s death, or even worst, my own regrets consume me, but I rose above them. It was my father who helped me through it all.  I remember him always saying, “Roll with the punches, Abi.” It never dawned on me that those words would stick with me to this day. Life throws its punches, and all we can do is roll with them – do our best to not get knocked out cold.

The following song gets me every time:

“Cowgirls Don’t Cry”

By: Brooks and Dunn

Her Daddy gave her her first pony
Then told her to ride
She climbed high in that saddle
Fell I don’t know how many times
Taught her a lesson that she learned
Maybe a little too well

Cowgirls don’t cry
Ride, baby, ride
Lessons in life are going to show you in time
Soon enough you’re gonna know why
It’s gonna hurt every now and then
If you fall get back on again
Cowgirls don’t cry

She grew up
She got married
Never was quite right
She wanted a house, a home and babies
He started coming home late at night
She didn’t let him see it break her heart
She didn’t let him see her fall apart

’cause Cowgirls don’t cry
Ride, baby, ride
Lessons in life are going to show you in time
Soon enough you’re gonna know why
It’s gonna hurt every now and then
If you fall get back on again
Cowgirls don’t cry

Phone rang early one morning
Her momma’s voice, she’d been crying
Said it’s your daddy, you need to come home
This is it, I think he’s dying
She laid the phone down by his head
The last words that he said

Cowgirl don’t cry
Ride, baby, ride
Lessons in life show us all in time
Too soon God lets you know why
If you fall get right back on
Good Lord calls everybody home
Cowgirl don’t cry

For my father and his wise words.

Pablo Cano Jr.

October 9, 1938-November 27, 2004

 

via Daily Prompt: Baby

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “His Baby Girl: Rolling With The Punches

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s