Ten years ago today

I am staring at the date I just wrote on the bag of breast milk I'm about to put in the freezer.
6/5/12.
Ten years ago today my dad died.
So much has happened in the past decade. I think almost every day about what it would be like for my dad to be alive now. It breaks my heart that my kids will never know their grandfather.
But it occurred to me while staring at today's date, that had my dad not died in June 2002, I might not be standing here with this breast milk at all.

When my dad was diagnosed with terminal melanoma, my life spun out of control. His illness was brutal and it was heartbreaking to watch him wither away. I had already been drinking a lot but watching him die sent me into an alcoholic frenzy that increased in magnitude and scope once he passed away. I was fired from two different jobs. I had very little money and what I did have I spent on beer. My relationship with Dave, although we loved each other very much, was tenuous because of my emotional state and my alcoholism. In January 2004, a year and a half after my dad died, I hit rock bottom and entered an outpatient rehab program where I sobered up and started to get my shit together. What finally convinced me to get help? Aside from several embarrassing and dangerous drunken incidents, I finally realized that checking out of my life to deal with the fact that my dad had lost his was completely absurd and absolutely backward.

I truly believe if my dad hadn't died, I would have continued to drink, for much much longer. I think Dave probably would have left me (and I wouldn't blame him one bit considering how awful I was to be around while drinking). Even if he hadn't left me, I don't think I would have found the inner strength I needed to be a good wife or mother had I not been through the life altering experience of losing a parent and then the arduous task of introspectively rebuilding my life. And I sure as hell wouldn't have been equipped to handle what's gone down with my pregnancies and children in the last few years.

My dad taught me so much - creativity, empathy for others, humor, how to write and the importance of family, in addition to so much more. But, perhaps the greatest lesson he taught me was through his death, and it was the most important one of all. Grief and loss can be debilitating and seem never ending. But on the other side of those feelings there is a life to be lived, and you only get one shot, so you better show up for it.

I wish so badly that my dad was alive today to see my beautiful kids and continue to teach me what I want so badly to learn from him - parenting. But, would any of it be here for him to see? I'll never know. What I do know is that ten years later, he's still as much a part of me as he was the day he died. Guess he's already taught me what it means to be a good parent after all.