There’s never enough time. This was how I began my blog over two months ago when we got back from our first trip to the States since moving to Portugal a year and a half ago. The blog was generated by my sentiment of there not being enough time to see and spend time with the people I love back home.

Now, the title has taken on a second meaning since I lost my dad.

I’ve given a lot of thought to this now overwhelming feeling of there not being enough time. I’ve contemplated whether it’s truly a feeling that there isn’t enough actual time or that every moment of time has become even more precious to me. It’s both, and each presents itself at different moments and sometimes different times of the day. But, as I work through this grief of losing a parent, the preciousness of time has taken a strong lead…

I’m so grateful that I got to see my dad on our jam-packed trip back to the States in December. We stopped in Pennsylvania first to see him and while we were only there for a few days, I can honestly say I didn’t waste a minute of our time there doing anything but being present with him. I knew on some level that this trip would most likely be the last time I would hug him, so I cherished every minute of our visit and hugged him as much as I could. 

We then had a wonderful visit in Georgia with family for Christmas and the start of Hanukkah, followed by a week in Colorado to see more family and all the friends we left behind a year and a half earlier. We all noticed some interesting reverse culture shock, and I’ll share some examples as I think it will be fun for us to look back on one day. 

First, ice water. Water with ice sounds quite simple when you live and dine in America. It’s not in Europe. You can certainly order water and ask for a cup of ice but having a server greet your table with (free) ice waters is def not a thing. I didn’t know it was something I missed until it arrived. 

Next, Charmin upgraded! Have you noticed the wavy ends to the Charmin toilet paper? I appreciate attention to detail, and coming from someone who misses Charmin almost as much as I miss my clothes dryer, I say Bravo for fancying it up, Charmin!

Coffee culture. I already knew it was different and have come to really enjoy the quality and flavor of the coffee here in Portugal. Most times, it’s straight up espresso but I’ve now learned multiple variations of enjoying my beloved morning coffee with hot water, with a dollop of steamed milk, and sometimes half and half milk and coffee. Going back to drip coffee was an adjustment I wasn’t too keen on, to put it nicely.

Car versus all things public transport. While I definitely miss the efficiency and comfort of having a car (especially when it’s raining or cold) and getting from point A to point B in a reasonable amount of time, I do NOT miss driving in snow/ice, dealing with traffic, listening to complaints about car sickness, and most of all, the significant decrease in walking. I decided that public transportation options are something I’ve missed since NY and truly appreciate about living in a city. Most days, that is. 

Finally, the gift of family and close relationships. I feel so lucky to have people in my life who miss me as much as I miss them. I do not take this for granted, and going back after being gone for a significant amount of time only serves to reinforce that. My OG people fill my cup, and I hope I do the same in return. 

I’ve now completed my first round of Portuguese classes and achieved A2 status. I’ve always been an enthusiastic student and have worked hard to learn as much as I could. On paper, both reading and writing are where I’ve seen the greatest improvement. But speaking and listening still need quite a bit of work. So, that will be phase 2, conversational work!

We’ve also had some fun times with great people we’ve met or known here. One friend has started monthly karaoke parties, which is always fun when revisiting songs from our growing-up years, but it’s also brought Chad to the mic a few times, which I never thought I’d see! We enjoyed a quick cameo from Captain again, always great to see someone so special to both of us. And, another amazing homemade Portuguese meal with the Sousas. I didn’t think Pedro could top himself after the last meal of duck rice, but this beef stew was as good, if not better. A delicious lunch, great company, and always a new and fun board game enjoyed by all. I love spending the afternoon with them and their adorable kids.

And now, after a few days back in Colorado to mourn my dad with my family and friends who knew and loved him, my heart is heavy, and I already miss him so much it brings me to tears to even write it. I want to text him that I landed or tell him about my day. But I know I can’t. At least not how I always have. I haven’t posted or written anything up to this point because I didn’t want to make it even more real, and I wanted/needed to keep it as my own. But I want people to know that while my dad, like many, may not have gotten it right all the time, he was an amazing father to me. He is the guy who always showed up, no matter what. He’s the guy who cheered the loudest, so you knew he was on your team, even when there was no chance of winning. He’s the guy who adored his three daughters but always kind of wanted a son, as evidenced by his “Go Big Al” cheers at my soccer games. He’s the guy who bought the biggest Legos from Target for his grandkids, despite parental opposition, just to see them smile. He’s the guy who got on a horse to ride with me even when it was the last thing he wanted to do (or should have been doing). He’s the guy who gave you advice you didn’t know you needed. He’s one of the most quotable and, many times, predictable guys who made it easy to come up with 75 Rich-isms for his birthday. He’s the guy who always put on reggae music on Sundays and danced around like he was Jamaican. He’s one of the biggest Philly Eagles guys there ever was and screamed at the TV during football games expletives we never should have heard as kids (but how about those Eagles giving him a Superbowl win in his last days?!). He’s the guy who was not afraid to cry, often, sometimes, just because he was proud of you. He’s the guy who accepted and loved who we loved but made it clear that he would kill anyone who hurt any of his little girls. He’s the guy who misses you but tells you to go live your life for you and only you. He’s the guy I got to call dad for 48 years. 

Thank you, dad, for being that guy to me. You are and will always be missed but your legacy will live on. I promise. I love you the mostest.