This blog is in the memory of my wonderful step-dad, Paul. He really was one of the best men that ever lived on this earth. I miss him soooo much, and love him with all my heart. He is the best father that a girl could ask for. I know I was just his step-daughter, but he took me on as his own. I really wish I still had Paul around to help me and teach me. He taught me some of lives most valuable gifts, like honesty.
In Jan 15, 1999, I was only 16 years old. I remember coming home, and going through the garage to go inside the house. I saw Paul, working on his motorcycle, getting ready to take it out the following morning. I first just ran past him at first, but as the door shut behind me, I had a feeling to go back into the garage and tell him that I loved him. To this day, I am so grateful that I did. Because that was the last time I saw Paul healthy. I found a stupid excuse to go back into the garage, told him I love him and he told me he loved me too.
The next day, Jan 16, 1999, I was at my step-mothers, Deanne's house. My mom called, and once I heard her voice, I had a terrible feeling that something was very wrong. I just heard it in her voice. She told me that while Paul was out with his sons, and friends dirt bike riding, that he had an accident and was in the hospital. They life flighted him up to LDS hospital in SLC, UT.
Later I found out that Paul was dirt bike riding in the mountains. They were having tons of fun. He loved it when it rained the night before, because that made it perfect for dirt bike riding. He was going around a corner of a cliff, and was going a little too fast around the corner. His bike went over the cliff, and into a pond of water. His back hit the only rock that was in that area. He was paralyzed from the T-5 down. It was one of the worst brakes they have ever seen before.
We hurried to the hospital. He was going in and out of different test. He was on a breathing machine, that he hated. I hated it too, cause it was hard to talk to him. We kept going up there to visit, but Paul was also struggling with Staff Infection and Phenomia. We started to think of ways, that we had to change our house, to help him come home. We started looking into different scholarships that help people that are in Paul's situation to help him continue being the head of the household. But the only thing that mattered was that Paul was alive. We did not care what condition he was in, we wanted him!
The last time I saw Paul, I think hurt me for years. I felt like I lied to him, but I honestly I thought he was going to come home. The doctors told us that they were going to do a few test with Paul and he was going to be busy for a few hours. So my boyfriend, David and I, decided to go to the gift shop to waste time. We were on the elevator to go down, and from a different floor, some doctors rolled in a patient on a bed. It was Paul! It was the first time he did not have his breathing tube in, and I could finally talk to him for a few minutes. He looked at me and all he said over and over was "I thought I was going to die." I promised him that he was not going to die, that he was going to come home soon, and that I loved him. That was the last time I talked or saw Paul alive!
After 11 days of being in the hospital, Paul died of Staff Infection and Phenomia. We got news that he was going down hill, and get to the hospital fast. The hospital was a little over an hour away from us. By the time we got to the hospital, he already past away. I remember going into that room, and just looking at him. He had blood coming out of his nose, which was Staff Infection. They made sure we washed our hand very well before leaving the room. I just stood there holding him hand, starring at him, hurting inside. I kept it all in, until I went outside the hospital, around the corner, where no one could see and cried and cried. I want my dad back! I wanted My Paul. I wanted my Paully Waddle Doddle Scotty Simons (my personal nickname for him. I was the only person that he let give him a nickname)!
It has now been 12 years. This time of year is hard for our family. Cause his accident was Jan 16th, he died Jan 27th, his funeral is Feb 1th, and his birthday is Feb 7th.
But I know that Paul is always watching us. I have felt his hands on my shoulders during a temple dedication. And I had a dream right after his death that will always be precious to me.
My dream was that my family was having a little family get together. I looked out the window, and saw Paul was sitting on the lawn chair with his legs propped up looking in at us from outside. He had his cowboy boots on, his cowboy hat on, and his cowboy belt on. He was just sitting out there watching us peacefully and happily. I walked outside, and asked Paul "Why don't you come inside?" He told me that he cannot come inside with us, but he will always be watching us. I woke up right after that. Even though he is not physically here with us, he is watching us. He does love us. We are his family.
Paul's birthday is 2 days away, on Monday. If he was still alive today, he would be turning 52 years old. He died when he was 39, almost 40. The interesting fact about that, is he was afraid of turning 40. He thought 40 was old, and did not want to be old. He told us that if he ever got too old, put him on a motorcycle and push him over a cliff. 11 days before he turned 40 he died as a result of a motorcycle going over a cliff.
I believe Paul is happy. But we sure do miss him. I hurt all the time, cause my birth father and I do not have a close relationship. I guess I crave what Paul and I had. I really want a close relationship with my father, but I doubt it will ever happen now. But at least at one time in my life, I did have a father that truly loved me. Truly accepted me. I had a great father, and I will one day be with him again, because of the great plan that our Heavenly Father has given us! I love you Paul, and will always be thinking of you!