The Grief Diet: On the loss of my father

I am writing to everyone and no one. I want to write this for myself. On the other hand, I want to shout my story of Bud to everyone. On the anniversary of his death, it would be easy for me to write all about my pain as I have done in previous posts. But it is not the intensity of my loss that I want the world to know today. I want everyone to know him. Yet, I want to be the keeper of his memories. It was just the two of us for the majority of my childhood. However, for those who came in contact with him, caught a glimpse of what a truly amazing person and father he was.

As I write this, my dad would be appalled. His humility often got in the way. He would want me to write about his granddaughters, abused animals, intolerance, or the paranormal. But, I will save those topics for another time. Today it is about him. I must repeat myself and tell you about Burl Glen Thompson. He was brilliant. A genius. He was curious. He had an extraordinary gentleness. He never said one hurtful word to me. Every time I told him what I wanted to be when I grew up, he would say “you can be whatever you want.”

He was quiet and others may have thought he was stoic, but he felt deeply. He had the compassion of a saint. In my book, he is. As a friend described him “he was as solid as an oak tree. He sat still and took the world in.” He appreciated nature and nature loved him.

He was a stay at home dad. My world was his world. He had physical limitations. Instead, he relied on his mental capabilities. He was slow, but when he had to he moved fast. He never said one bad thing about my mother in front of me. He could have, but he didn’t want to destroy any chance that we could have a relationship. He gave up dreams so that I might get a shot at them.

So today for everyone, I hope I captured some of his life and the legacy he has left behind. I hope you know him now. But for no one but me, I am the blessed keeper of those father daughter memories. He is my dad and that is how it was meant to be.