Women Connect 2012. *sad story about my dad, a teeny bit graphicish*

 

So after reading a few of the other ladies stories I decided that I was going to do this link up with Becky. It's not your normal answer some random questions about your favorite things or what you ate for the last week link up. It's about who YOU are and what you're about. Where you read and find other women to connect with and become friends with.

Becky's description:  

What do you do? You write. You write and you open up to us. Tell us who you are. Share a story with us. Tell us why you blog. Something that has been challenging for you in life? Something that has been a major blessing. Anything applies. The goal is that you take the time to actually write and the result would be that other women would find you and your blog and connect. 

Well, I'll start with the basics. 

I'm Haylie.

I recently turned 21 in October.

I met my husband in 2006 at 14 years old.

We got married on July 13th, 2010. 

Chase is an infantryman in the Army, has been in for over three years, and did a tour in Iraq. 

The Army brought us to Kansas, but I'm an Oklahoma girl through and through.

I love sports. I'm a HUGE Oklahoma Sooners, Green Bay Packers and Oklahoma City Thunder fan. 

That stuff up there is the easy stuff to tell. I can sit here for hours and tell you random facts about me, but this isn't what this link up is supposed to be about. I don't quite fit in the blogger world of the blogs that I follow because I'm not a mother, crafter, chef, student or don't have a crazy awesome job to write about. I lead a normal, slow, boring life most days with some crazy, fun, amazing days thrown in.

My dad is my hero, my number one person. I'm alike him in more ways than one. I am the spitting image of him, people I've never met before ask me if he's my dad when I first meet them because they can JUST tell. Our love for sports is the same. When Oklahoma loses a football game it ruins our day. We yell and scream obsenities at the TV when they're playing badly, telling them to do better because what they're doing isn't cutting it. We make the same facial expressions and say the same phrases. Calling me a "daddy's girl" is an understatement.

By the previous paragraph it would seem like everything's peachy and wonderful in the land of Haylie. Well, for the most part it is. The thing that a lot of people don't know about me is that my dad died of a massive heart attack when I was seven years old. 

On the night of my mom's thirtieth birthday, I was awoken by the most blood curdling scream I've ever heard. I got up and went into my parents bedroom and there was my dad, laying there, not moving. I tried to shake him to wake him up and his eyes just rolled back in his head. I went into the kitchen and my mom was screaming, pacing, calling numerous people on the phone and I had no idea what was going on. A lot of that night is a blur, I blocked it out. It was the most traumatic experience I've ever had and my mind doesn't want me to remember. I do remember sitting in the back of my grandparents car with my four year old little sister, trying to tell her that dad was going to be okay and that everything would be fine. I remember riding to the hospital silently with my grandparents. I remember sitting in that waiting room for what seemed like hours, until finally a doctor came out with a somber expression and said, "I am very sorry, we did all we could do but he didn't make it. The EMT's got one heartbeat out of him on the way here and we couldn't revive him any further." My strong mother fell the the floor screaming and in hysterics pleading with God, asking why this was happening to her, why he would take her husband and her children's father away like this.

A few days later was the funeral. There was standing room only in the biggest church in our small town and there were still people listening from outside. That day was pretty much a blur. I remember sitting with my aunt and deciding not to go and see my dad's lifeless, limp body in that casket. I didn't want my final memory of him to be like that. I chose to remember my dad as the funny, awesome, tall, cuddly, full of life, amazing teddy bear that he was. After the funeral, we went to the graveside and what a sad, sad site that was. Six of my dad's best friends wiped tears from their eyes as they carried his casket to his final resting place while Ozzy Osbourne's See You on the Other Side played.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Things got more and more real everyday as we awoke and realized that we'd never see him, hear his talk or laugh, have him make us breakfast, tickle us, take us out on dirt roads and jump hills, go fishing or do anything else that we had done with him anymore. 

It's been thirteen years this past September since he passed away. There have been so many things in my life that he's missed. He missed some of the most important milestones in my life so far. He missed major birthdays, my 10th, 13th, 16th, 18th, 21st, he missed my high school graduation and the day I got married. It BREAKS MY HEART to know that he'll never get to meet Chase, he'll never get to see his grandchidren, or hold them, or see them learn to crawl, walk, talk, just grow up. I think about my dad often. I wish I could call and talk to him or that he would be there when I go home. 

My dad dying and my mom being a single mom has impacted my life immensely. My mom and dad were together for thirteen years and married for a little over seven when he died and my mom has not remarried to this day. She says that there will never be anyone that was as good of a man that my dad was. My mom did the best she could raising my sister and I being thrust into single motherhood at the age of thirty and losing her husband at the same time. She did everything for us and she went without new stuff to make sure we had everything we needed/wanted and more. She's my biggest role model and someone I very much look up to. 

Well, there's a brief look into something that made me into the person I am today. I'd give anything to be able to sit down and talk to my dad for a couple of hours. I'd love to hear his voice and tell me what he thinks about Chase and just the things I've done in my life thus far. I look at photos often and wish that we would have taken more of them. I constantly bug Chase and make him take photos with me because I know what it's like to not have a lot of photos with someone who meant so much to me and I don't EVER want that to happen again. 

Thank you for reading. :)