Missing Dad. The Gift of Dreams and Memories

Missing Dad. The Gift of Dreams and Memories

I had a dream about Dad this morning right before I woke up. He was in his wheelchair and in his room with me here in our home.
We were chatting away like we used to do every morning. He asked me if I had checked his website lately. I said no Dad I have not, what is up?
He told me, ” they have reopened my favorite restaurant in Gilory”. Here take a look. I bent over his shoulder and he showed me a photo of a restaurant being remodeled he had posted. He used to put comics and just images up on his site, since typing was so hard for him. When I leaned over him, I pulled him up a bit to help him sit straight in his wheelchair and put my hands on his shoulders. Dad said let’t pray, like he used to do so often. He started praying and I woke up.
What a wonderful way to wake up. It felt so real and comforting. As the morning went on, I kept thinking about that dream. I am so grateful I had my Dad living with me and here with my for those years. I would of never had the memories built into my brain to give me such a lovely dream. 

Then I just realized a few minutes ago, it is Father’s Day!  What a gift my Dad left me. Thank you Dad. I miss you. My youngest child just graduated High School and we missed you Dad. You were at all the events of our life those last 7 years.  Our family friend who was close to Dad and used to take care of him for me when I had to go out of town, was here last week, and she said to me, I miss Victor. I told her, gosh he loved you Gloria. One year the kids and I went to Disneyland at Thanksgiving and her and her family came to our house and had a full on Mexican feast, with turkey and tamales that year with Dad. Him and her partner, also named Victor, smoked their cigars and had a grand old day. Thank you Gloria for loving my Dad. He sure loved you and your family too.

Missing a parent during the holidays

This is my first Thanksgiving in nine years without my Dad. I feel sad and I am missing him very much this year.
For most of my life I did not see that much of my father. We did not live conveniently close and often we lived hundreds of miles away from each other.
Over the decades some years we only saw each other at holidays.  Then my Dad had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home.
He decided to move to my town, and came to live in a nursing home just two miles from my house. This started a lovely time for my family, where we had Grandpa with us once a week, all holidays, birthdays, graduations and any time we went out to dinner. Then he got well enough to move in with us and was with us for the last two and half years. I thought I had a good ten more years with him to look forward too when he became ill and died suddenly in July.  I am still trying to adjust to the hole in my life that he filled.

One of the many things I loved about my Dad was how much he loved the holidays. He loved all of it.  The family, the mood, the excitement, the seasons and  mostly he loved the food.
My Dad loved food. He was a joy to cook for because he liked everything and would try anything and always oohed and awed and relished what he ate.It was nice to have him around to discuss the menu, and buy some of his favorites each year. A good example is he loved his Lipton onion soup mix, sour cream dip and potato chips.
This year when I was shopping I did not buy those ingredients, because he was the main person who would eat that.
As I shop now, I find myself reaching for foods that he loved and I see certain things and I think oh Dad would love that, and then it hits me, he is gone.
As I start to prepare some of the food for our Thanksgiving feast tomorrow today, I have tears in my eyes and a heaviness in my heart.
It just is not going to be the same.
I miss you Dad.

Anyone who knew my Dad knew he loved his comics. This is one he sent me around this time last year.


Memorial for Vic Chernoff, Gilory, August 30th, 12-3 pm.

Please visit this link to sign up that you will be attending.


We want to share memories, have a bite to eat, and raise a toast to my Dad, Vic Chernoff.

The event will be held:

Saturday, August 30, 2014 from 12:00 PM to 3:00 PM (PDT)

Westside Grill Banquet Room
8080, Suite 100 Santa Teresa Blvd
Gilroy, CA 95020   



Death of a Father- it hurts

Vic Chernoff, Norm Weyman, Pastor Ernest Gentile,  Barbara and Bob McKim and Bob Taylor

Vic Chernoff, Norm Wehman, Pastor Ernest Gentile, Barbara and Bob McKim and Bob Taylor

I love this photo. It is like the old Gospel Temple gang. Sunday school teachers and family friends. My first boyfriends Dad, Bob Taylor, my brother Mark’s in-laws and both of my best friend’s parents while growing up, Nina and Diane, and then of course Pastor Gentile, a huge figure in all our lives. All in one photo with my Dad. That is a lot of love and living represented here. Bob Taylor was one of the funniest men I ever knew. I adored him. He was kind, loving and funny. Debbie Sell emailed me that Dad and Bob are in heaven right now having a great time. That is exactly what I was thinking this morning before I found this photo.

I am having a hard time concentrating today. I keep getting these waves of sadness and a huge emptiness in the pit of my stomach.
I feel like I want to talk to Dad and tell him how I am feeling so he can give me his advice and comfort like he always has done.
My daughter and sister Renee both have the same deep attachment to Dad, so we have been emailing and calling each other.
I am grateful for them. We all seem to be having the same feelings. Sadness, loneliness for Dad, and a huge sense of loss.
The loss that we can never share our life with him again. The whole family loved Dad, but the three of us have a similar emotional makeup, so this is not
a surprise to me, and I am blessed to have my sister and my daughter to share these feelings with.
This is the first death in our family. I think that right there is always hard. Even though Dad almost died twice before, he was such a fighter, such a comeback kid, I thought he might do it again. I thought I would be more okay with it, since I have lived with this feeling of impending death over him since his first stroke going on 20 years ago now.
I just miss him. I wish I could hug him one more time, I want to hear his cheery greeting when I dressed him in the morning. He was so darn sweet and cheerful every morning.  I wish I could bring him one more cup of  his beloved coffee, (he swore I made the best cup of coffee ever!) High praise indeed from the coffee press man. I wish I could make him breakfast one more time, and hear him praise the Lord for another beautiful day in Castro Valley. I want to watch him go outside with the cat and dog sitting at his feet and smoke his cigar and put his head back and pray and drink in the scenery and be at peace
I loved watching him do that. I did not realize how many times during the day I would pop into his room and see how he was and just touch base.
He was part of my daily routine. He filled a big void for me the last 9 years. I was never lonely with Dad as part of  daily life.  I felt his spiritual protection over my family and felt secure every day knowing my Dad was with us and praying for us and asking God’s blessing over us. It is a bit of a scary feeling to feel like that is gone now.
I used to worry I would be taking care of him until I was an old lady. Does everyone think they have unlimited time stretching in front of them?
Right now I just want to drink in all the moments with my kids and my life and be grateful and aware. I have tried to live like that, but this loss  makes it feel more cemented into my being.