Father's day blues

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I miss Papa here in the land of the living. And I feel that he is enjoying watching me make a grand fool of myself over struggles, decisions big and small, my feeble attempts at domesticity, and restraint in holding back tears that sometimes would threaten to overflow once in a great while when my heart remembers him.

I can almost feel him holding out his hand should I lean back, or trip, or giving me that look that can still make me freeze and think - uh-oh, what did I do/or not do now? And I miss holding his soft hand that would shoo me away if I tried to overdo my caregiver role.

I miss looking into those angel eyes that, during his last days, had no reflection of me, as he was having a hard time focusing and recognizing. Those eyes that at times clouded with confusion on who was there, where was he, and what was he doing, or what was I doing hovering over him. Those eyes that lit up if he recognized your voice as the sides creased with laugh lines if you were witty or touching enough.

And then there was his gentle, contagious smile flashing each time he found something amusing, infecting us and transforming the room, the world, into a better place, even for a little while.

I am grateful and honored to have been there almost every day during his last days. Those days I miss sometimes as I hurry home, wanting him to be in the room so I can look in on him, check his diapers, and his mood, brighten his day, and give him his coffee and food.

Most of all, I miss his assurance that everything will be alright.

I was never blind to his faults, and on the verge of romanticizing his persona, I forgive myself for only thinking of him at his best. My mind, my thoughts, I control, and no one can take these away from me.

He is no longer tied to the mortal world where we need technology to stay connected. He now knows what I am up to, and thinking, in real-time. There is nothing to edit, leave out or overstate anymore, now all is said and done. So I will connect with him as best I know how, and as I am able—with alcoholy spirit.

Amen.


"I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

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