I had been afraid that I would not get to him in time for this moment. I was equally afraid that I would be there. I am sorry I was there. I am glad I was there.
I have no parents.
I am struggling with this sentence.
I had lunch soon after that day with a woman who lost both of her parents within a couple of months of each other. One from cancer, the other, suddenly from an aortic tear. She is a very stoic and professional woman, but she looked me in the eyes and told me that I was now a member of a club - one that non-members can't appreciate. I think she was right.
I haven't depended on my parents for more than 20 years - not for financial support, not really for emotional support (I'll write more about that later. Maybe.) yet there is something absolutely terrifying in the feeling of utter aloneness and the lack of a perceived safety net that I didn't realize was there until it was completely, utterly and irrevocably gone.
My mother has been gone for more than nine years now, and I am at peace with her passing. Truthfully, I am at some sort of peace with dad's passing, though I can't accurately describe the intense and sometimes frightening emotions (particularly white-hot anger) that I have relating to some of the events and people tangential to and following his death.
What I am NOT at peace with is that, as a forty four year old homeowner, I feel like a child with no home to go home to.
I pride myself on being strong, creative, resilient and independent, but right now these two pictures sum up how I feel (and how strong, creative resilient and independent I feel right now).
My father has let me go to face the world on my own.
But I want my daddy.
The thing is, though, the members of this club don't get that luxury, and they can't call their mom to talk about it. We smile and try not to take our crazy out on people who innocently enough talk about the daddy/daughter events they have planned.
I hope he heard me when I told him I loved him. Every time.
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