some things are permanent
Today is the 2nd anniversary of my dad’s death. I had to look at the calendar on my watch yesterday to remind myself. I didn’t want to miss it or miss thinking about him today. I wish I could talk to him again. Not that we ever talked very much, except when I went home and then I had to make a special plan to meet him at Starbucks or go out for Indian food or something like. He was a shitty dad, but a good friend to a lot of people and by shitty I mean that he was absent, not malicious. Anyway, there are a bunch of questions I want to ask him about growing up and the war and meeting his 3rd wife and this girl he loved in China.
I imagine that in the upcoming years I will forget to remember that January 17th is the day my dad died. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust I guess. Still, there is a part of my metaphorical heart that has always been hollowed out by his absence and even if I forget the date he, the part that’s missing will always be there.
Rest in peace.
I’m glad to have met him and been with you through the grief baby
me too. on both counts. i’m grateful for those things.
thought about you last week, knowing the anniversary was near… i don’t know if you will ever forget the day, but you were spot on with “the part that’s missing will always be there”. that reminds me of a line from “the god of small things” that talks about a people-shaped hole (specific to the person)that is left in the universe when someone dies. i wish i could remember the line more accurately, because it was such a beautiful way to describe such a sad and profound thing.
your dad was such a complex person. i’m glad i got the opportunity to meet him, as well. take care and let me know if you need anything.
thanks for saying all of that heather. i’m glad you met him too. i think dealing with loss is alot about learning to adapt to what’s gone, which i know you understand. i feel like i’m doing pretty well, but i don’t want to not talk about his dying, which i know you also understand. hope you’re doing well.