Taking a break from the cruise recap to “visit” with my dad a little …
It has been three years since you left us.
I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss asking for your advice. I miss telling you about good books I’ve read. I miss talking music with you. I miss our Oscar night check-ins. I miss playing Carmina Burana with you on the first day of spring. I miss your letters arriving in the mail filled with illegible notes and random newspaper clippings. I miss your presence at family events when there is no one to cut to the front of the buffet line and go back for seconds before others have had their firsts. Damn it … I just miss you.
Remember when I was younger and you took me to see 2001: A Space Odyssey? (Remember how the film melted right when HAL was having his psychotic breakdown and I thought it was part of the film and showing how HAL’s “brain” had become corrupted.?) Afterwards, we puzzled out what it meant and talked about how if we had the opportunity to communicate with each other from the Great Beyond, we would totally do it. I haven’t gotten any specific messages from you yet … unless it WAS you sending those butterflies and that rainbow in the sky. I was hoping for something really blatant but I don’t know exactly what you can do. (When we went hiking in Glacier last year to visit the spot where you died, I KNOW it was Mom who sent the grizzly bears. She thought we were overdoing it and sent us back. It was blatantly obvious.)
Speaking of Mom, it makes me happy to think of you two being together again — even though I wish both of you were still here with us. It was hard for her without you. You left so suddenly and we didn’t get to say goodbye. (Mom left us suddenly without a goodbye too. What is up with you two?) That aching feeling of incompleteness in our relationship will just never leave me. I wish we could have talked one last time. Or seen each other again. I miss you and mom so damn much. It doesn’t feel right to be in the world without you guys — the people who brought me into this world and helped shape me into the woman I am today. There is an empty space in my heart that won’t be filled until I’m in your presence again.
Jeez … now I’m sitting here typing this through my tears. Most days, I keep this grief tamped way way down but today I’m letting it well up and I’m feeling your loss. I talked to Chris last night and I know he is missing you something fierce. He’s hanging in there but I know he’s had a really tough time. If anyone needs your messages from the Great Beyond, it is him so I’m totally fine if you grace him with that.
Us kids are doing our best to love and cherish each other but we form a triangle now instead of a square (you guys were the fourth corner). A square was so balanced and stable and worked no matter which way you turned it. Now, with us three kids, we’re a little less solid and out of balance. I’m trying to keep it upright but I feel like we’re fracturing a bit. I will work on that. I know you’d want us to.
So, I don’t know what else to say that I haven’t said a million times to you.
I love you. I miss you. I wish I could see and talk to you and give you one last hug, have one last conversation. To say goodbye properly. Just know that wherever you are in the great wide universe, I’m thinking of you and loving you and missing you … today and every day.