Happy birthday, papa.
You would’ve been 69 years old today. Instead, you’re five and a half years gone.
So many things on my mind, but the one that keeps surprising me – you’re an inspiration. You’ve taught me, by example, what to do – and what not to do.
Perhaps I’ve grown into how our relationship had changed, how my understanding of you had changed, in those last few years. I used to do things despite you and your stubborn will (that’s what you get for passing on your genes), but now I do them to honor you. Ironically enough, you still wouldn’t approve of some key choices I’ve made. But that doesn’t matter, it would still be nice to share them with you, and argue until we’re hoarse and it’s way past bedtime.
You are the reason I want to believe in the possibility of meeting you again someday.
Jewish lore says (or so I’ve heard, anyway) that the living are allowed to summon the dead for a year after death, whenever, to help with the grieving process; and that then it’s time to let them go where they will. Wherever else you might be, you’re in my blood, and I can summon that part of you whenever I damn well please. Happy birthday.
April 4th, 2006 at 5:02 pm
Bits of grief and bits of happiness float in our veins for the rest of our lives when someone who shaped us dies.
I think that by remembering who your da was and by incorporating what you had with him into your life you are honoring him in the fullest and most wonderful way possible – with life.