Wednesday, December 5, 2012
My dad would have been 70 today. I can remember him talking about how weird would be to be 70, back when he was 64 and thought he could outwit his body indefinitely.
I have little ways of dealing with the gaping hole of his loss; little games I play with myself. One of them is not to look very closely at those folks who, out of my peripheral vision, look a little like him. I'll see someone, or more accurately some part of someone, and I'll let myself pretend, just for a moment, that my dad is there. The curl where their hair meets their collar can do it every time.
And I still have those crazy dreams — the ones where I know my dad is dead, and yet here we are talking. And I can tell it's really deep and meaningful and then I wake up and remember nothing. I'm just left with the feeling that we had a really amazing visit. I'm still not convinced that those are just dreams.
A few weeks ago, I came across a previously undiscovered box of old photos and other ephemera from my dad's family. There were scraps of paper that belonged to my great grandfather, my grandfather, my grandmother, my dad. Gone, gone, with only the bits and pieces left behind. I savored every minute of sifting through out-of-focus photographs of people I didn't recognize, my father's elementary school report cards ("talks too much"), and a few real gems. Among them are the photos here. I'd never seen them before, and I absolutely adore them. I love how in the series at the top my dad is cut off in every single photo. So classic of bad, old pics and yet I love the quirkiness of them now.
And this last photo of my dad and I when I was about 21. I don't remember ever seeing this image before, but it says it all.
Dad, you have my heart. I hope one day you hand it back to me.
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Beautiful and poignant ... thank you for sharing.
This evening I had to hold my daughter, for I never want to leave her alone.
He was so cute and your remembrances lovely. In a few days it will be 33 years since my father left us, the hole is still...
How did I miss this?
A lovely post, Jul... I've dreamt about your dad a few times since his passing and it's always great to see him. My dreams are unfailingly vivid — I routinely have at least one a night that stays with me. When Leon passed someone mentioned at shiva that I'd see him again in my dreams and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that yet. Of course it's hardly a fair exchange, but it's a damn sight better than nothing. Then again we don't have nothing, either, as long as we have the DNA, literal and metaphoric, that have been passed down.
Hugs to all!
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