My Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday. Aimee and I went over to Dana's house to have German Chocolate cake in his memory (his favorite cake). Ever since he died, we have tried to get together as a family for his birthday for this tradition. We normally don't talk about Dad much, because it is still too tender of a topic for most of us on days like this. It's definitely a hard topic for me and writing about it is hard as well. I am trying to make this blog somewhat personal because I think I have a lot to learn about myself, but at the same time it is difficult to talk about such a sensitive subject. I am holding the tears back as I write this.

Where do I begin... My Dad's name is Dean Stewart Bergam. He was born Sep 17, 1949. I looked up to him more than anyone in the world, and he took good care of his family. It has now been almost 10 years since he died. I remember when it happened and that it didn't really sink in at first (I still don't know if it really has). I can remember standing in the hallway with my Aunt, who was calling family members to tell them what had happened. I didn't cry, just stood there. He had died due to complications during an open-heart surgery, something he had always been afraid of. I would give anything if I could go back to stop that surgery.

Since his death, I have noticed a few changes in myself. I still have managed to maintain an undying optimism about life, but along with that optimism comes an almost mechanical response to anything that goes wrong. Since the day my Dad died, I have been prepared for anyone I know to die. I may not be as prepared as I think I am, and it's not like I try to be ready for anything to happen, it's just that my sub-conscious has already done the work to build any coping mechanisms that could conceivably be necessary. I haven't noticed that this has adversely affected any of my close relationships. I don't have trouble getting close to people or "letting people in", but I sometimes if there are other effects that I am not aware of.