Dear Dad,
Where do I begin? That question, always rhetorical in nature, is, admittedly, a cheap ploy that actually serves as a beginning, but this time, it is a question I actually seek to answer. Another trip around the sun without you, and being a passenger on this rock hurling through space is still the closest I'll ever get to being an astronaut. Those of us who love you are tasked with trudging on without you, and this year has been especially difficult. Mom is the fiercest warrior I think I have ever met, and she is
currently both spine and nerves (not to mention heart) for Kevin. We
talked about you tonight while I was taking one of "my walks" (I'm not
as young as I pretend I am, and last night's run, bolstered by your
memory acting as the breath in my lungs, rendered me nearly immobile
today). As expected, today was difficult for all of us, but mom's voice rattling the chain of bones in my ear, my breath made visible by cold and moisture in the air, and ache in my quadriceps were all youyouyou. I realized a few things:
1.) Time passing hasn't made anything easier. I never expected it to. It never gets easier, but it does get different. Each year I get closer to your age when your age...stopped. It feels like to worst footrace ever.
2.) As much as I miss you, I often use the word "incandescently", that agony is mitigated by the idea that I miss you this much only because I was allowed to love you so much. I think about the people in the world who have absolute SHIT parents, and I am doubly grateful.
I wonder if you would even recognize the world as it is today, and I
cannot help but feel a little relief knowing that you were spared at
least that. What would you think, as a doctor, of all the... everything that surrounds the pandemic we are in right now? COVID-19 is terrifying in an of itself because of just how little we seem to be able to get in front of it...and the conflicting information that emerges, changes, shifts, recedes, only to be replaced by MORE conflicting information. What's worse, though, is how horrible it is making everyone to each other. I truly want to believe it is because of the fear and sadness and isolation we are all going through, but a far more cynical part of me suspects that, deep down, people have always been this way and just looking for an excuse to let it out. Sadly, the fear of repercussions being one of the only remaining principles, people are turning on each other. Civility...no...basic human decency has gone the way of the dodo, and everyone is left internally smoldering and glowering at one another. If it weren't so ugly, it might actually be funny.
...but then there's the good stuff. There's always the good stuff. James' little James has beaten cancer. Kevin hasn't given up. Moo continues to purr. My heart beats its resilience through heartbreak, its strength inherited from you, no doubt.
We made it through another year. I miss you incandescently. Happy birthday, Dad.
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