Everywhere I look there are advertisements for Father's Day. Spotify, Websites, Mail flyers etc. are full of Father's Day greetings and advertisements. But each one that is heard or received at our home is a reminder that my Father passed away. My dad died unexpectedly on November 22, 2014. Which means this will be the second Father-less Father's Day for my brother, mother and me.

I don't think companies realize that something as simple as mentioning a Father's Day sale can jerk a Father-less daughter to tears. The members of my family have and are still grieving my Dad's passing in very different ways. I am usually okay, my life is going well and I have realized that God brought my Dad home because he had fulfilled his duties here with us.

I have noticed that the week leading to Father's day (this year and last year) I am on edge. I am emotional, indecisive, untrusting, and need a lot more reassurance from those around who "love and care" about. I was listening to music the other day doing some work when I heard an advertisement for a Father's Day playlist and I started crying.

With mascara running down my face, it occurred to me that I am not the only daughter without a father on this holiday. My brother is not the only son without a father on this day and my mother is not the only mother who has to experience Father's day as a widowed Mom filling the shoes and positions of both mom and dad. My dad and I had a complex and difficult relationship that had more twists and turns than I care to mention.

Part of me is jealous. I remember attending the Father's Day pancake breakfast at our local firehouse with my dad as a bright eyed little girl. At seven years old, I saw my dad sitting with the other dad's at the firehouse and knew none of them compared; I had the best daddy ever. Now I look around at little girl's with their daddies and I envy them. I will never get to have those moments with my dad again, no matter what age.

Part of me is sad. Last week I was driving around showing my town to the first guy I have brought home from college and at one point he said to me "man, I wish I had gotten to meet him" (him as in my father). It occurred to me that he never will.

My dad won't be here to walk me down the aisle. My dad will not be cheering me on as I cross the stage and receive my degree next May. My dad will never meet the people who have changed my life for the better. And I will never sit in a room of Father's knowing mine is there again. The best daddy or not, he was mine.

So as this holiday approaches and I am reminded of the fact that I am Father-less every five minutes I am also reminded that no matter what happened, or what changed, no matter the fights, the anger, the wrong-doings; my Dad did the best he could. He worked hard for this family and I was his little girl. I have a responsibility to make him proud down here.

To all my Father-less people-

This week and this Father's Day, honor your dad, honor the father of your children, honor your father-by-love-not-blood figures. Know you are loved. And honor their legacy.

Rest Easy

Scott Charles Daley

July 16, 1962 - November 22, 2014