Today is a somber, bitter-sweet sort of day. It is a day that I relive the events of (now) 14 years ago, a day of pure helplessness, a day my world stopped momentarily....as I watched my beloved father end his walk upon this physical plane. I am so grateful that he had presence of mind just hours before his final departure so that he could impart to me words that I would carry with me until I went to meet him there. I'm grateful for the blessed opportunity to care for him in my home which led to my children (whom were very young at the time) developing a real knowledge of him and memories that they too can (and do) carry with them. I'm grateful to have been trusted with the final decisions regarding his medical care and that he trusted me enough to know that respect for his wishes along with my love for him would guide me to do the very best for him. Just a day before that day, he and I watched a concert special on VH1 of Elton John (I LOVE Elton John) but I remember saying to him "If you don't want to watch this dad, you can change the channel" He replied, "Oh no, I like this guy." So there we were, the two of us sharing a 9" apple pie he requested that I bake him, sipping coffee and being entertained by Elton John...just silent space shared in love. I cherish that memory and every time I hear an Elton John song...that memory is attached.
I can honestly say...though my father's face is not in view and the smell of that "Old Spice" is not wafting in the air, he IS with me...A LOT. I feel him all the time, letting me know he is still a very important part of my life. I know he sees my kids as they have all grown into adulthood and approves of their paths in life. I know he is proud of me--of all of us. I draw strength from his memory and I still try to make decisions that would make him proud. He is thought of very often, and most often during the month of October. I can honestly say that the month of October (since his passing) has always been the month of the year where I seem to make some pretty big, life-changing decisions...and it isn't even forethought...just seems to be the way it happens. My youngest daughter was born October 18th...and she was the only of my three children that my father held while we were still in the hospital..AND I have a picture of it. I feel it so apropos that fall has always been my favorite season, that it is the month that is clearly related to the change of season from summer to fall...from presence to absence...from warm, exuberant life brimming all around to barren chill and silence. But I find the beauty in it...the smell, the seemingly different angle of the sun and the shadows it throws, the preparation of nature for rest, and the warm and cozy blanketed sleep.
I cry a lot around this time of year because it is my favorite holiday time...starting with Thanksgiving, through Christmas, and the birth of a brand new calendar year...all without the physical presence of my father. I usually write my dad a letter every thanksgiving because sometimes, his birthday falls on this day...sometimes not..but another date that brings him to the forefront of my thoughts and reminds me that his laughter cannot be heard, his arms cannot be felt, and his humor cannot be shared. As young as my children were when he left us, they will always mention him around this time too...usually Thanksgiving...one of them will say (and it is usually my middle daughter)..."I miss grandpa, I wish he was here to see how well we all are doing." To which I reply..."He is and he does, we just miss his physical presence." This November, he would have been 95. He lived a long life...one month shy of his 81st birthday and I think he lived the last good 15 years exactly the way he wanted to.
So today, it is all about my Rocket Man. Love you dad. We miss the parts of you that are missing...we feel the part of you that lives on.
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