I hate that I have learned so much, and have become a better person, because of Lisa’s death. And I am not patting myself on the back, I truly hate that I am better and have learned so much because of her death. I want her back more than ever so I can show her how much better I am. We would have a better marriage, because I now understand the value of a partner. We would be better parents because I am more in tune to my children and their needs. And I’d be a better friend because I have matured.
As far as I can tell, after someone dies there is no coming back, so here I am left with my better self, and Lisa not around to enjoy it. Dammit, she is the reason for it, she should benefit. So not only did she die and not get a chance to raise her three daughters, she didn’t get the best part of me.
I look back on my life and wonder, how did I ever let something like a football game so consume my life? This past Halloween, someone had to tell me that the "big" Bears game fell on Halloween, and if I went out with the kids I would miss it. Yet, if Lisa was alive, as ashamed as I am to admit this, I would probably try to get out of trick-or-treating with the kids to watch TV. But now with Lisa gone and the three girls solely my responsibility, there was no question about what I would do...definitely spend time with the kids.
I was a good Dad on Halloween. A real good Dad, including the party on Friday night with Girl Scouts that I took the day off work for, the costumes we bought, the trick-or-treating, the dumping of all the candy on the floor at night for sorting and trading between the girls. It was a good day. And yet, I lay there in my bed at night, feeling like crap. I wish I was this way when Lisa was around. But I wasn’t, and now she’s gone.
So, Thank You, Lisa. I know I missed out on the potential of our lives together, but I will continue to raise these kids and do my share in this world because of you. They will get the best of me and I will try everything to get the best out of them.