I never got the chance to say goodbye to my dad. In fact, I never got the chance to "see" him when I was down. He was cremated before I even landed in Toronto. I never got the chance to say goodbye. The last thing I said to him was "see you in June".
My father didn't always see eye to eye on things. I even remember when we argued about something we both agreed on. That's how we were, but that's my dad. My dad as a strong, smart person, but growing up was a different story. I thought of him as a control freak, I thought he always had to have his way. I know know better. I now know that he wanted to make me a better person. In many ways he succeeded, but there was always a deep seeded resentment I felt for him. A resentment I've only managed to let go after his passing.
I do have some regrets however. We didn't always talk. Whenever I called home, as soon as he answered the phone and after a few "how are things", he would say "I'll get your mother". Toward the end we would chat more. Maybe it was because he knew his time was coming, or maybe it was the encouragement from my mother, but he did open up more. He asked about work and how my career was going. Something this I find important as well. I guess I am my father's son. I do regret not telling him of my plans of going back to University to get my MBA.
A good family friend gave my dads eulogy
My 2 bytes