365 days later

I started this blog writing the beginning, the middle, and the end. Now I am here documenting what life has been like almost 365 days after the passing of my dad. 11 months ago I started to share the story of how my dad, Lt. Richard Estreicher of the FDNY lost his fight to stage IV pancreatic cancer. Some days, I am not sure how I got here. I am not sure how 1 year of not having my dad has just flown by, how the person I relied on the most is not here to comfort me, make jokes, leave annoying voicemails, and pick me up and drive me to wherever I have to go is just simply not here anymore. 

There are days that I wake up still in shock that my dad just isn’t going to walk through the garage door with his ugly ass dad jeans on, his oversized Marine Corps shirt, with his wallet in his hand and his keys in his mouth. I miss him winking at me from across the table while we ate dinner, playing Juicy by Biggie Smalls in the car, annoying him to rub my feet while we watched tv together as a family, and playing tricks on each other. These little things are the things that I reflect on almost daily and I am thankful that I had him to be my dad.

This year certainly has not been like any other - nothing like losing a parent and dealing with a global pandemic! However, sometimes I am grateful that I can work from home and just be by myself if I am not having a good day. I am still going through the emotions of learning what grieving looks like. Some days, I am overjoyed by being surrounded by friends and family and other days it can be super overwhelming and over stimulating. 

Learning how to adjust has been key to this whole process. I have been blessed enough to have a dad that would drop anything in a second to help me or be there for me. Now, I am learning to do more things on my own and be more independent. Even as I have moved out, he is not there to call if something is broken or if I don’t know what to do (I highly recommend buying a basic tool kit off Amazon -- it has been my saving grace). 

I have mentioned this before, but this wasn’t a journey that I ever thought I would be experiencing at 23 years old. Some days there is this feeling as though I am now part of this new club. I am part of this, “I lost a parent at a young age club” and let me tell you - it is not fun. I try my best to not let it bring me down and or be my focus. It can be really easy to focus on the negative when your world feels like it has just come crumbling down. My dad was the type of guy to make everyone in a room laugh, lend a helping hand, and simply just loyal to a fault. He would take his shirt off his back for anyone.

I am trying to take this sucky experience and turn it into something bigger than myself. Me and my sister have started The Live Rich Foundation in honor of our father to help other 9/11 first responders receive medical testing that is not covered by medical insurance. That alone has given me hope that I can do something to make a difference in other people’s lives who went through a similar experience as our dad. Even starting this blog has been life changing. I feel as though I am making some sort of difference every time someone who has a similar story reaches out and confirms that I am not alone in this and that they are going through the same thing. 

I do have the days where I would love to kick, scream, and cry that my dad isn’t here. But none of that is going to bring him back. Nothing could ever fill the void of losing my dad. Nobody could ever be him or replace the memories that I have with him. But, I would like to clarify a misconception about losing a loved one -- it does not get easier. For me, it has been learning to adjust to the new obstacles and roadblocks in my way every time that I am reminded that my dad is not here. It is learning to find some sort of silver lining every time I look at a picture, or reflect on a happy memory, or smell him in my garage (Me and each of my family members have caught a whiff of my dad’s cologne in the garage and it is quite strange!)

This year has taught me that life does not have to be fair, the people who want to be there for you will, and there is never a bad time to stuff your face with ice cream. We are not guaranteed tomorrow and we are not guaranteed good health. That alone is a scary thought, but it is a reality. 

If my dad has taught me anything in this world it is to continue doing the right thing no matter the circumstances, laugh with the ones who make your stomach hurt, and never turn down an opportunity to do what makes YOU happy. Surround yourself with people who add value to your life and make you feel good. Like he always said, “don’t sweat the small stuff.” 

But as I sit here and ramble on, I would also like to wish my dad a happy 61st birthday this November, his birthday is on Friday the 13th this year and 13 was his lucky number. 

here’s to celebrating my dad’s life…