The Great Unknown

Today marks one year since Dad's passing. My relationship with Dad came late in life - not smeared with adolescence insolence or childhood insecurities. I have always vehemently stated that our relationship was perfect. We were uninterested in the hurt and pain that often accompanies family. He had NO idea of the stupid stuff I did when I was a kid and I held no grudges of the less than ideal moments he might have been guilty of as a parent. Our past, present and future was unsoiled and I was so lucky.

My heart broke when Dad died. The shatter brought me to my knees. Mark tried with all of his might to console me. I was comfortless and one year later I don't see myself recovering any time soon.

It's been a whole year of firsts. Dad's wife, Arlene, has struggled with these. It's been hard for her to be alone. She misses the bickering that comes with years of marriage. The anger, the pouting, the silent treatment, the slamming and the muttering all seem to fade when you lose someone you truly love. You find yourself remembering the camping trips, the long drives in the car, the conversations, the meals cooked and shared, date night at your favorite restaurant and the comfortable silence of their presence.

One day I was sitting at my counter eating Top Ramen - of all things. I looked out the window in time to see a couple get out of their car and head up the sidewalk to my house. "I know them, but who the crap are they?" It was Dad and Arlene. 

When I came to my senses and rushed to the door to greet them, I asked "OHMYGOSH! Why are you here?" They had heard that I had gotten a not-so-nice-letter from someone and it had rocked my small world a bit. Dad had driven 12 hours because I "might need a hug from your dad." And they hugged me. And we cried. And my cup runneth over.

Today EVERYTHING reminds me of my dad. I still smell the outdoors he wore as cologne. I remember the feel of his curly hair. The sensation of his warmth wrapped around me lingers on my shoulders. I hear his music and it commingles with the tinkling of his laughter. I miss the sound of his voice. 

Life without someone you love is like entering a great unknown. You don't know what's ahead. You can't have what is behind. So you wing it - never knowing when a touch, a smell, a song, a poem, a voice or a presence tickles your brain and tears begin to flow.

I have a frame above my desk with pictures of dad and myself on the first day we met. I look at it and remember him. I hope I honor him. Although our time together was short, I hope I made him proud.

I love you Dad.