Goodbye is the hardest word

Editor’s Note: Monday marked the 10th anniversary of the passing of former Citizen publisher Del Laverdure, who died of cancer at the age of 50. His daughter Amy, who is currently studying law at Dalhousie University in Halifax, posted the following on Facebook on Monday and we’re publishing it here with her permission.

I contemplated posting something about this for a long time because I didn’t want people to act differently around me or talk to anyone about it. But it’s something that I’ve thought about for a long time that I want to get off my chest and put out there. It’s pretty long so read it or don’t, it’s no skin off my back either way.

It’s been 10 years today since I had to say goodbye my dad. He and I had very similar personalities which is probably why others sometimes called me a “mini Del” and why he was one of the people I was closest with growing up. It was one of the hardest things myself and my family had to go through, and something that affected me for years after as I quietly struggled to deal with my feelings.

In that time it’s gotten easier, but it doesn’t mean I miss him any less or at times wonder what it would be like if he were still around.

He was the one who gave me and my family incredible vacations to Disneyland, drove me to swim meets, watched the Lion King with me, taught me how to play poker, introduced me to The Office, and did so much to make sure he gave me and my family everything we could ever want. I never really truly realized everything he did or fully appreciated even the smallest things until he was gone. I’m happy that we had such a great relationship and I got the time I did with him. I know that not everybody is fortunate enough to have that in their life, but there are times I still wish he was around to talk to and tell him everything I’ve realized and done in these last ten years.

Sometimes things happen slow and fast all at the same time, but you don’t realize it until it’s over. You think you have all the time to do or say what you want, but the truth is you never really know. The last eight months I spent with my dad were proof of that.

I was lucky enough to be able to say goodbye to my dad and tell him everything I felt, but by that time I couldn’t have the last conversation I wanted to have with him.

This is why I’ll always remember him and cherish the time I had with him. It’s also why in the last few years, I’ve tried to be more open and honest in life and ready to take on new opportunities because I never know when I’ll have that chance again.

I’m still not totally there and it probably can’t be completely done, but I’m trying to make sure I don’t regret missing out on anything and do things that I know my dad would want me to do. I may not be able to talk to him, but I know he would want me to be happy, and take every opportunity I can to experience new things. I try to do everything with the idea that it is something he would be proud of and happy for me about. People always say “He’d be proud of you” (despite not being too fond of lawyers), and even though I’ve made mistakes along the way and every single thing I’ve done hasn’t necessarily been me at my finest, I know that what those people say is probably true.

These events over the past few days and weeks have shown that tragedy and grief is something that can strike anybody at any moment. It’s something we can deal with and help others with, but it’s not something we can control.

All we can do is appreciate what we have now, enjoy every moment of it, and hope it lasts as long as possible. Losing my dad was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through and deal with, and while its something I may never completely get over or forget about, I’ve come out of this a stronger person with a different perspective.

And with that, if you’ve gotten through this cheesy cliché post, I apologize for not being an eloquent writer or showing off sharp wit, but I will do what I do best and close it off with a quote taken from a TV show.

“I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” – Andy Bernard

Jk (just kidding), I wouldn’t end on that sappy note.

“You miss 100 per cent of the shots you don’t take.” – Wayne Gretzky. Amy Laverdure Halifax