Two days

Two days until my late father’s birthday. I remember now, upon learning both of his birthday and his death, that it was surprising how close they were to each other. He never ended up making it that one last year, though.

What makes his death hardest for me… well, there isn’t really one thing I guess. Only a couple though. Obviously, it’s the loss of my father but that isn’t as significant because, although for my early years he was very involved in my upbringing, for the vast majority of my life I only saw him on occasional weekends.

I guess that segues nicely into what really does make it hard for me, though, and that’s I never got the chance to really develop a good rapport with him. I was young and didn’t really have the thought to try and learn more about him and his past and just how he thought about things. All I ever knew was the surface of his personality that he showed me as a young child, but I never got to know him as a person rather than just… a symbol. I think Father, I think of him. But that’s all I can really tie him with.

The other thing is that, for the last 6 (or more) years of his life I didn’t see him. When we went, my mother and I, it only caused us depression to see him in that semi-vegitative state. And while it brought him great happiness to see us — the smile that formed on his face when he recognized us I remember to this day — it only dragged him down into depression again when we left. So my mother decided that it was best for everyone if we didn’t see him anymore.

I had another chance to see him long after that decision. My memory of it is not very good. I believe I was in a car with my mother and a friend of hers. My mother went inside and asked if I wanted to go with her… and I declined. I guess, as a youngster, I knew that seeing him would only hurt me. It never occured to me at the time that maybe I would get a chance to say something meaningful. That he would wonder where I was, how I was doing. In short, I never got to say goodbye, or to tell him how I felt, before he died. I had the chance, and I gave it up. That’s something that still haunts me occasionally.