Remembering my dad on Father's Day | THE MOM STOP

They say that mourning the loss of a loved one gets easier with time, and it does, even when it’s the unexpected loss, or a loss of someone so close to you, like a parent.

It’s been a little more than five years since the death of my dad, and some days if feels like a lifetime ago. I look through some of the last pictures of my kids with their “Grandpap” and I realize how young they were, and how much in their lives that my dad has missed.

More: Why my daughter is the only girl in her circle of friends | THE MOM STOP

Five years ago, my youngest daughter was a preschooler; my son, only 7, was still heavily into "Star Wars" and smiled with a gap-toothed grin. Our oldest daughter, who seemed so mature at the time, was still in the fourth grade.

High school seemed eons away. So did discussions of colleges, or teaching my kids how to drive. But I blinked, and here we are, with two teenagers in the house. And Dad has been gone for these turning points.

Dad used to say that we should spend as much time soaking up the younger years of our kids’ childhood. Indulge in our kids, and spend quality time with them as much as we could while they were little, he advised, because once they turned 12 or 13, he warned, they’d want to be with their friends. Our dad knew, from experience.

We were always “daddy’s girls,” my sister and I. But perhaps only more so, as adults.

After our teenage years, phone conversations became one of our only ways of connecting after he moved cross-country to take care of our grandmother. He was the very best listener who gave advice tinged with a hint of humor, and was the person both my sister and I knew we could turn to.

He was our sounding board, the person we could vent to, cry on the phone with, and the person who made sure to tell us every single time how much he loved us and was proud of us. And he’d finish each conversation with “Keep saying your prayers.”

Still, five years later, and I have moments when I think “I wish I could tell Dad.”

The thing people don’t tell you is that when a parent or a close family member dies, your world seemingly shrinks. The impact hits even harder, the closer you are to that person.

After the death of a parent, the sting of loss does get easier, with time. But then it’s holidays or days like Father’s Day, that brings the bite of that loss back into focus.

To honor him, I try to be the best parent I can be. I mimic him. I try to be as good of a listener as he was, to be someone my own kids feel comfortable talking to about their problems. I try to invest time in my kids, the way Dad invested in us. And I try to tell my kids I love them every single day. Still, I often feel I’m falling short.

Not that my dad was the perfect father. He had plenty of shortcomings, but he was perfect for us.

At bedtime last night, I went into my youngest child’s room to give her a glass of water as my husband finished reading her a book, something he does every other night, since we often take turns.

My husband is the one who often takes our high schooler to school in the mornings, the one who cooks dinner at home just as much if not more often than me. It’s my husband who has instilled a passion for music in our oldest daughter, who can talk about military history facts with our son, or doesn’t bat an eye at reading to our nine-year-old the same “Dog Man” book for the 57th time.

Before I turned out the light, my husband recited our bedtime prayer with our daughter, before kissing her goodnight. And I couldn’t help but be thankful that my kids have the dad that they do. Just as I am glad I had the dad that I did.

Lydia Seabol Avant writes The Mom Stop for The Tuscaloosa News. Reach her at [email protected].

This article originally appeared on The Tuscaloosa News: Father's Day brings back sting of losing my dad | THE MOM STOP