Last Thursday, I shared with you, dear readers, the beginning of my 30 years as a writer and editor. That was the upside of 30 years ago. The downside was the death of the Daddy, two weeks after I started my new job.
The last time I saw him was the weekend before I started work. The parents were both happy—the Daddy, in particular—that I finally got a job. One, especially, that I was excited about.
On the last evening of my visit, I was rummaging through my old bedroom closet for some stuff. I don't know how long the Daddy had stood at the bedroom door watching me before I realized he was there.
"Do you want something?" I asked.
He smiled. "No," he said.
I returned to my quest. He stood there for a few more seconds, then left. It was such a odd thing for him to do.
When I was a small kid, every now and then I would wake to find the Daddy and the Mama looking at me. I always pretended I was asleep. "She's okay," the Daddy used to say, then eventually they would leave my bedside.
After the Daddy died, I got the feeling that was what the Daddy was thinking when he stood just watching me. He was satisfied that he could leave me now. I think he knew that was the last time we would see each other.
Thirty years later. . . how I miss him.
The last time I saw him was the weekend before I started work. The parents were both happy—the Daddy, in particular—that I finally got a job. One, especially, that I was excited about.
On the last evening of my visit, I was rummaging through my old bedroom closet for some stuff. I don't know how long the Daddy had stood at the bedroom door watching me before I realized he was there.
"Do you want something?" I asked.
He smiled. "No," he said.
I returned to my quest. He stood there for a few more seconds, then left. It was such a odd thing for him to do.
When I was a small kid, every now and then I would wake to find the Daddy and the Mama looking at me. I always pretended I was asleep. "She's okay," the Daddy used to say, then eventually they would leave my bedside.
After the Daddy died, I got the feeling that was what the Daddy was thinking when he stood just watching me. He was satisfied that he could leave me now. I think he knew that was the last time we would see each other.
Thirty years later. . . how I miss him.
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| The Mama and The Daddy, 1976 |
This is touching Su-sieee! The picture of your Dad showed a caring father. And I think you have the same smile as your Mama.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a sweet photo and a very handsome couple. No matter how old we get, we always miss our parents.
ReplyDeletegreat post. i miss my dad, too.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Oceangirl. When I was younger, guys, in particular, would say I resembled my mom. I couldn't see it. Today, when I come across photos of myself from back then I finally see it. Distance. :-)
ReplyDeleteManzi, that day was Daddy's birthday party. It was one of the best days. Yep, it was. :-)
Ed, thanks. :-)