A son’s relationship with his father is a complicated thing. Mere words are inadequate to express fifty-five years of … adoration, respect, awe, joy, frustration, laughter, anger, sympathy, and of course love.
Every boy becomes his father in many ways, good and bad. I see him in me in more ways than I can count.
Losing my father hurts like losing a huge part of myself. But I know losing his faculties was impossibly hard on dad. He was a man who prided himself on his wit, who loved games, and had a staggering ability to recall almost any detail. The last few years were especially hard on him.
Dad was who the family called whenever we needed to learn how to do something for the first time: buy a car, write a resume, get married, sell a house…. He was demanding, but was always there.
As hard as the last few years have been on all of us, especially mom, I wanted him to be with us forever. But I realize now that was selfish and unfair. I wasn’t ready for him to go, but it’s time for us to let him rest in peace with all his wits restored.
I learned that from my father.
Goodbye, dad. I will love you forever.