“And so it goes.”
We made a commitment to give this thing a go for one year, and we did it! We learned a lot, we gave it our all, and we have made a decision to let it go. Thank you for your support, it means the world to us! The site will be up until the end of the week to grab any of the blogs you want to save.
We wish you peace and love.
Fee & Becky
February 17, 1990 ….……goodbye Bob Fee.
The day my Dad died was the day my world changed forever. That day it changed for the worst. I was lost. I was sad. I was angry. I was drunk. If you knew my Dad, you know how big he was. Not in stature but in presence. If you didn’t know him, I will give you the short story.
My Dad was my hero, my verbal sparring partner, my confidant and my drinking buddy. He taught us to be tough, honest, live with integrity, and to love God. He was a United States Marine. He grew up in an apartment in the projects in New York. Having a house was important, so he and my Mom gave us a house, with a yard and a pool. It wasn’t a big house , but he used to sit on his covered patio with his cigar and Manhattan and survey his “south 40”. He was proud to Irish Catholic. He taught us to be very Irish Catholic. He loved the ocean, and we do too. He loved all sports, but his favorites were boxing, Notre Dame football and of course, “Da Bears”. He yelled at the TV so much we got him a T-Shirt that said “Mike Ditka’s Assistant”. All three of us girls love sports. He never went to college and all he ever wanted was for the 3 of us to graduate. We did and he was alive to see it. He may have sounded like Archie Bunker, but he gave everyone a fair shake, and I mean everyone. He was passionate, caring, smart, funny, tough and deeply in love with our Mom.
Together they made our house on Davine Drive everybody’s “home”. Our door was never locked. Our pool was always was open (subject to Bob Fee’s Pool Rules). There was a “kitty” to collect for the soda, and the older we got it was for the beer. There was always some sort of sporting event on the TV. Sometimes we would come home and find several friends just waiting for us to get there. There were parties, dancing, drinking and singing. And more often than not, you could find my Dad sitting down with one of us helping us find direction (and sometimes it was a lengthy conversation 
). We were lucky. The strong bonds we formed in that house still exist today. We are blessed.
Everything I did was to make my Dad proud. I needed his direction, his guidance, his support, his encouragement, and his approval. He was my life compass. So you can imagine, when he was diagnosed with lung cancer and died within 2 months, we had no time to prepare. I remember Curt distinctly saying to me “I am so sorry. If anyone needs a Dad it’s you”. He was right. I had no idea where to go or what to do. My compass was gone. We all coped differently, and my coping mechanism was alcohol. That coping mechanism cost me my family, my job, my health and almost my life. I know my Dad was with me, trying to guide me back to life. I was just too drunk to feel it.
August 6, 2002 was the second day my world changed forever, but this day it changed for the miraculous. The journey in sobriety has brought me so many gifts, but one of the biggest has been the knowledge that my Dad didn’t leave me, he is not gone. He lives in my heart. He is proud of the women we have become. He lives in our hearts. He is happy that my Mom found someone to love, who loves her. He lives in her heart. He is so thrilled with his grandchildren and the people they are becoming. He lives in their heart. He lives in the lessons he taught, the stories he told, the laughs we shared, the love he gave, the service work he performed, and the lives he touched. He lives in the stories we tell. If you knew him, he lives in you too.
I miss my Dad every day and I desperately wish that I could hear his voice, hear his guidance, his jokes and his laugh. Sometimes if I concentrate really hard, I can still hear his laugh. I often smell cigar and cigarette smoke for no reason. I know that is him. Someday we will meet again, and on that day I will know I am home.
Until then….
Fee (that’s from him too)
