I loved reading your connection to your dad. Thank you so much for sharing. I hope he is at peace knowing he left a wonderful piece of himself behind in you.
My sister and I traveled to California a couple of years ago to see family and spread our Dad's ashes in various places he lived and loved. He died in 2020 — different circumstances, but similarly we had a fraught relationship with our father. But during this trip, where we spent hours in the car traveling around northern California, we kept having experiences that felt straight out of a horror movie: almost running out of gas in the Sierra Nevada foothills, a power outage at an old motel during a big thunderstorm that lasted all night, finding one lone box of Sees chocolates (our Mom's favorite) sitting on a pile of t-shirts in the middle of an airport gift shop, where seemingly no other Sees candies were on display anywhere that... That's just a handful of the bizarre occurrences we encountered. Thus, my sister and I decided that these were signs that our Dad was actively "haunting" us on our trip, which amused us greatly.
We ended our week-long, multihundred mile long, ash-scattering tour of northern California by getting matching dagger tattoos to commemorate our special trip, our bond as sisters, and our challenging relationship with our father.
Reading your story hit on many levels. Thank you for sharing it.
So sad. He was handsome and gifted (I love the sculpture!). Death by alcohol is tragic, esp when help is one rehab away.
My own father, a hopeless womanizer and alcoholic, also died in a hotel room, according to my mother. I never knew him. He left my sister and me when we were babies, never to be seen again. Ironically, I walked by that very hotel in Minneapolis years later, to and from my very first career job.
Love this essay so much, Rachel. I am a fan of father stories—so many oof us have so much to figure out! I also live in Missouri, birthplace of Route 66–so i can almost imagine why your dad turned around—lol! Your writing is so poignant—as was your relationship. Thanks for sharing this piece.
I loved reading your connection to your dad. Thank you so much for sharing. I hope he is at peace knowing he left a wonderful piece of himself behind in you.
My sister and I traveled to California a couple of years ago to see family and spread our Dad's ashes in various places he lived and loved. He died in 2020 — different circumstances, but similarly we had a fraught relationship with our father. But during this trip, where we spent hours in the car traveling around northern California, we kept having experiences that felt straight out of a horror movie: almost running out of gas in the Sierra Nevada foothills, a power outage at an old motel during a big thunderstorm that lasted all night, finding one lone box of Sees chocolates (our Mom's favorite) sitting on a pile of t-shirts in the middle of an airport gift shop, where seemingly no other Sees candies were on display anywhere that... That's just a handful of the bizarre occurrences we encountered. Thus, my sister and I decided that these were signs that our Dad was actively "haunting" us on our trip, which amused us greatly.
We ended our week-long, multihundred mile long, ash-scattering tour of northern California by getting matching dagger tattoos to commemorate our special trip, our bond as sisters, and our challenging relationship with our father.
Reading your story hit on many levels. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for sharing your and your dad’s story. I felt the unease. Hope you’re still finding peace.
Beautiful tribute to how we can so fiercely love our complicated dead dads.
So sad. He was handsome and gifted (I love the sculpture!). Death by alcohol is tragic, esp when help is one rehab away.
My own father, a hopeless womanizer and alcoholic, also died in a hotel room, according to my mother. I never knew him. He left my sister and me when we were babies, never to be seen again. Ironically, I walked by that very hotel in Minneapolis years later, to and from my very first career job.
Love this essay so much, Rachel. I am a fan of father stories—so many oof us have so much to figure out! I also live in Missouri, birthplace of Route 66–so i can almost imagine why your dad turned around—lol! Your writing is so poignant—as was your relationship. Thanks for sharing this piece.
Beautiful retelling of a traumatic time 💗
Thank you for writing this and sharing with the world