Dad, you will be missed...

On March 9, 2013, my dad, Charlie, passed away...here are the words I read at his funeral today... A strange juxtaposition... I feel so lucky to have been born having two amazingly, wonderful parents. Some don’t even get to experience that once in a lifetime. But for me and Adam, we were lucky enough to experience it twice. First with our incredible birth-parents and then, 14 years later, with our step-parents, who are more than that title gives them credit for. I’m sure you all know the story of how Charlie became my dad (and if you don’t, I’ll happily tell you, just ask), and what a beautiful story it is. He always speaks about the amazing gifts I gave him by introducing him to my mom: he met the love of his life and he became something he had forever wanted to become, a father. But what I know that he knows, because I told him all of the time, is that I am the lucky one, because I got him as my dad. To have two fathers, who you truly love and cherish, walk you down the aisle at your wedding, dance the father daughter dance, and just to exist with in everyday life, is gratitude I fear I could never shape into words. When I think about my dad, Charlie, so many things come into my mind. Christmas mornings in our pjs, my Fantasy Football partner: “that father-daughter team nobody messes with!,” our Eagles vs. Giants wars, softball, cheerleading, Cooperstown, his wedding to my mom in which I was able to be the maid of honor, him standing directly next to me and Michael as we wed, his sayings, like “slammin’ the hammer!,” or “I want to meeb like a maniac,” or “what it is!!” I also think about his laugh, his words of advice, his smile, his sturdy handhold, his passion for his “kids” at East, his love for his colleagues and friends, the way he looks at my mother, the way he looks at me, the moments we told him we were giving him a grandchild, then the joy he got the first time he felt our daughter kick, and over the last two years, I have marveled over his strength through this horrific battle, knowing that he didn’t deserve to have to go through anything like this and that he was going to be taken away from this world, from us, way too soon. But he never complained. Not once. So it is a strange juxtaposition, as I sit here, 7 months pregnant, about to bring our daughter, Charlie’s namesake, Giuliana Charlize, into this world….that he is leaving it. However, the thing that brings me comfort is knowing that she will have one hell of a guardian angel looking after her always. Dad, to know you is to love you; I got to choose you to be my father, but our life together made you my dad. I am grateful for every single second I had with you. Your presence in my life has made me a better person and Michael and I will honor you daily by passing that on to “your little Charlie,” Giuliana.