I am one of many who didn’t get to say goodbye to someone they loved before they passed away. Today marks 8 years since my Dad departed this life. I was in flight from LA to NY when he took his last breath. Don’t think it didn’t haunt me, missing out on that last goodbye to my very first love: my Dad. If only I had taken an earlier flight. If only the cab driver had driven faster. If only Dad had hung on a few more hours. If only. The ‘if onlys’ fu%king kill us, don’t they? It wasn’t until about a year ago when the haunting stopped, and the gratitude began. Gratitude for the time I did get to spend with him, living.
Life is nothing short of interesting. One month before my Dad passed, I broke up with my then-boyfriend who was living with me at the time in Los Angeles. I told him that I would go stay with my folks in AZ while he finds another place to live. So off I went.
After that month in AZ, I walked away feeling blessed, aware and awakened to this man I called Dad. I felt I knew more about him than most. And a month later, I spoke about what I learned in that 30-day history class when I delivered his eulogy. I know now that he told me those things so that I could share them with others. He wanted me to share the story he wasn’t vulnerable enough to tell. A story that others may not have experienced through conversations with him.
SO, today, April 30th, eight years since he and I last spoke, I sit here haunt-less. I don’t beat myself up any longer for missing his last breath. In fact, I don’t mourn my Dad’s death any longer. Instead, I choose to celebrate his life. The life he so openly shared with me in those 30 hot-Phoenix days. For the past few years, Kellan and I celebrate his life the way he would have wanted us to: we pay him a visit, story tell, eat his favorite foods, drink wine, and take an afternoon nap. It makes him being gone easier in some respects. It actually makes me feel like I am doing right by him. Ya see, this is what my Dad would have wanted. My Dad never mourned the past. He didn’t give time or energy to what transpired yesteryear. So, on this day, we live life presently, mindfully, and wholeheartedly… much like he did his.
I love you, Dad.
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