Point of View | 'If the scar is deep, so was the love': Dealing with my first Father's Day without Papa

A new bond formed between my father and I as he drew his last breaths last August.

I think I was about six years old when I first understood what death was and that my dad had parents who I had never met.

I remember how sad I was to realize that I had grandparents who died before I was born. I also remember how my dad responded to my sadness, sharing stories with me of his parents as he tucked me in at night.

Bedtime was one of the first ways I became a daddy's girl. My dad was a master at tuck ins. He taught me how to make shadow puppets with my nightlight and read me The Monster at the End of this Book too many times to count.

It was the stories he told about his parents that really taught me his character.

Dad who we lovingly called Papa Bear always told me happy stories about growing up on a farm near Russell, Man. As I grew older I learned his childhood wasn't always the happy affair he shared from my bedside.

My childhood was full of the love and smiles that weren't always there during his. Someday, when I tuck in my own children, I will get to tell them stories about their grandfather the way he did for me.

A musical connection

Papa and I shared a great bond over music.

It's always been a joke in my family that I a late addition to the family, 10 years younger than my nearest sibling had to come along so Dad had someone to share his music with.

My sister would sing along, but I was the child who ended up picking up the guitar and learning to play.

Dad got me to learn the bass instead he needed a bass player in his band and the drums for a while, too.

What started as jams in the basement ended up on stages across Saskatchewan. I started to play with Papa in a polka band when I was 15. It was a nice way to make some extra money on the weekends, but the best part was spending time with Papa.

We jammed for the last time, back in the basement where it had first begun, about three weeks before Papa died.
I didn't want to believe it would be our last time playing together, but I knew I had to soak it in. We only played for about 90 minutes that day pretty short compared to the four-hour dances we used to play but for that hour-and-a-half we forgot about the cancer destroying his body.

'If the scar is deep, so was the love'

I turned to online articles a lot in the first weeks after losing Papa. One line, found in a Reddit post, really resonated with me.

"If the scar is deep, so was the love."

While that line has brought me comfort, I've also realized that my "scar" hasn't fully formed yet. It's still a healing cut, irritated at times. Even though I have countless memories of the amazing man my dad was, the bad memories of his illness and our loss can flood my mind.

This Father's Day is going to suck. There will be tears, anger and loneliness.

I know I'm not alone. It's not just me and my family. It's a feeling shared by everyone whose dad is a "was."

This Father's Day, as I start to sink into the sadness of wishing I could feel one more hug from Papa, I know I'll be able to stop, close my eyes and feel his love.

It's still there. It always will be.

This column is part of CBC'sOpinionsection. For more information about this section, please read thiseditor's blogand ourFAQ.

• Read more opinion and point of view pieces from CBC Saskatchewan

Interested in writing for us? We accept pitches for opinion and point-of-view pieces from Saskatchewan residents who want to share their thoughts on the news of the day, issues affecting their community or who have a compelling personal story to share. No need to be a professional writer! Emailsask-opinion-grp@cbc.ca with your idea.