My mom and dad split up when I was very young. In fact, I don't remember ever living with him. My brother and I were primarily raised by my mom. We would see my dad on the weekends usually, taking trips to the local park or other local adventures such as trips to Muir Woods or Marine World Africa USA. Those were some of my fondest memories of my father. As I got older, we grew more and more apart. I loved my dad (and still do) but I think sometimes he had a hard time showing his love for me and my brother and as I got older, that became something that upset me. Certain comments he made or actions made me upset and in typical teenage girl fashion, I became withdrawn and didn't want to have much to do with him.
As I got older, I realized that my dad wasn't perfect. He might not have been your typical dad but that's just who he was. There were things that upset me about him (and sometimes still do) but I learned to accept him the way he was. I knew our relationship would never be as close as it was when I was young but sometimes that's just how life is. We would call each other every few months and I would visit him whenever I was in the Bay Area visiting friends. That was our relationship the last few years.
The last time I saw my father was about two months before he passed. I made a weekend trip to San Francisco to spend my birthday with my best friend Stephanie. During that time, I met up with my dad, had lunch with him and took numerous pictures with him (his favorite thing to do). Little did I know that was the last time I would see him.
When I got that call last January, I was in complete shock. I didn't believe that it was happening. I was 27 at the time. My dad shouldn't die when I'm 27! "I'm too young to handle this", I thought. Since my parents were no longer together, my brother and I were responsible for a majority of things at first because we were next of kin. Multiple calls with the coroner. Calls with funeral homes. Trying to figure out how we would afford everything. My life was turned upside down. I was beyond stressed. I didn't know how to function anymore.
It's pretty obvious that 2014 was a hard year for me. Dealing with my dad's estate and an international move all at once was a lot for me to handle. I had some very hard days. Days where I just wanted to give up. Over the past year, I've come to terms with his death but it's still hard to believe that my dad is gone. Typical things such as birthday cards and phone calls are the things I miss the most. Things you have expected your entire life just poof...disappear.
One of the hobbies my dad enjoyed, that I have also learned to love recently, was photography. As far back as I can remember, he always had a camera in his hand. And as technology advanced, he collected more and more high quality cameras. In the wake of my dad's death, we had to deal with dividing up my dad's belongings and I ended up getting his Canon DSLR camera. I knew I wanted a camera like that someday but didn't know how to use it. Since moving to Europe, I have learned to use it (although I'm sure I could learn more) and have thoroughly enjoyed capturing all those magical moments I've experienced so far in Europe with his camera. It's kind of ironic actually...I used to complain about how many pictures he would take to get the "best shot" and didn't fully understand his passion of photography. He was always telling me I should start learning more about photography but I brushed him off. But now each time I use his camera, the more I love photography. In a way, I feel like I'm honoring his legacy by learning and continuing using his beloved camera. I only wish he could still be here to see me pick up his favorite hobby.
