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Four years ago today, I was getting ready to visit my father Frank Maio at the nursing home in Florala with my aunt and uncle. Shortly after we left, the phone rang, and we received the news of his passing.

While my dad and I were not close, it still hit hard. I knew God had better plans for him. He lived to be 85 and was a month and 21 days shy of what would have been his 86th birthday.

I felt at ease knowing he had joined my mother Linda Maio and my sister Kimberly Maio. They were all rejoicing in heaven, while I was down here dealing with another loss of a loved one.

We met with Foreman Funeral Home and scheduled his visitation and obituary. My father was well known in the community, and it was nice to have family and friends pay their respects. Although I did not cry as much as I did at my mother’s funeral, I had to accept the fact that both my parents were now gone.

When I was born, my birth mother took me to my grandparents’ house, and they raised me from birth. At the age of 6, my birth mother signed over all rights to them and allowed me to call them Mom and Dad.

My father and I did not see eye-to-eye on some things but learned we had to have a relationship as father and son. He was the only person I had as a father figure growing up.

He and my mother sheltered me for the first 18 years of my life. After high school, I enrolled at The University of West Alabama. They were supportive of my decision to move almost three hours away.

During my time at UWA, I learned to become independent and went from being a shy kid to a social butterfly who met all kinds of people. My parents checked on me occasionally and offered help when they could.

One semester, I became very sick, and they came to get me and brought me home to take care of me. I missed a week of classes but knew I was in good hands.

I graduated from UWA in December 2008, and they were there to show support along with my sister. They watched me receive my diploma before we took a family picture.

When I moved out of their house in April 2013, they helped me settle into an apartment. When my sister passed away before her 50th birthday in November 2016, we had a difficult time processing her death.

At the time, my mother began having trouble with her memory. I spent as much time with her as I could before she passed away in August 2019. My father had such a hard time dealing with her loss, and it caused his mind to slip, too. When he passed, he was no longer suffering and joined my mother and sister.

I plan on visiting the cemetery today and having a few words with all three of them. I will be strong knowing they are in a better place, but their losses still hurt to this day.

As I reflect on our time spent together, I wish my father and I could have been closer. Nonetheless, he is probably smiling down from above. Four years ago today was hard to process, but I will continue to go about every day and always remember him.

If you knew Frank Maio, you knew he helped others when he could. The Lord has him now, and I take solace in the fact that he is with my mother and sister. You are missed, Old Man. I will see you again one day when it’s my time to join you, Mom, and Kim. I love you all.

— Zack Maio is a staff writer for the Andalusia Star-News. He may be reached at zack.maio@andalusiastarnews.com.