I sent my last message to my father nine days ago... there's been no response as of yet. Is this proverbial door still open? Has he closed it? Has he sought out security and solace behind it?
I have no idea if my father has a computer at home. No clue as to whether he has Internet access, or takes trips to the library or a friend's to check his email. What I'm dying to know is if he read my last message.
If you recall, our last exchange involved him bringing up the subject of my childhood. And I feel I handled that very tactfully. I was careful to not offer too much detail to prevent him from feeling guilty or responsible for what he cannot change. I didn't want him to dwell on whatever feelings he may have towards his absence in my life. I've let that go. If he chooses to discuss it, I will entertain that discussion, but rehashing or living in that dusty old past does not interest me... it is not my motivation for allowing this door to be pried open.
But with Martha's recent passing, and feelings of loss for Pam still pulsing through my heart... my belief that knowing my father in whatever way this life allows is important, becomes even stronger.
We don't know how much time we have here. Not a single one of us. We never know what conversations will be our last. We never truly know when we will see someone again... Really telling someone how I feel has never been my strong point, but the importance of doing so has been screaming in my ear for the last week. I don't want my father to die thinking that I hate him, or that he ruined my life. I don't want him to think that I would never understand his choices, or that I would never forgive him. It is for these reasons, that I hope he has not shut this door.
My wish for all of you, my lovelies, is that you take every moment you have to let those around you know how special they are to you. That when you think those kind thoughts, you turn them into kind words. You may never know the impact kind words may have on someone's life, but you might, if you muster up the courage and energy to say them. But what you will know, is that if by tragedy or circumstance, you never have the opportunity to converse with them again... you will have expressed your gratitude for their presence in your life. And with that, I will thank each and every one of you, for being kind enough to share this magical, mysterious, and sometimes, maddening, life... with me.
I have no idea if my father has a computer at home. No clue as to whether he has Internet access, or takes trips to the library or a friend's to check his email. What I'm dying to know is if he read my last message.
If you recall, our last exchange involved him bringing up the subject of my childhood. And I feel I handled that very tactfully. I was careful to not offer too much detail to prevent him from feeling guilty or responsible for what he cannot change. I didn't want him to dwell on whatever feelings he may have towards his absence in my life. I've let that go. If he chooses to discuss it, I will entertain that discussion, but rehashing or living in that dusty old past does not interest me... it is not my motivation for allowing this door to be pried open.
But with Martha's recent passing, and feelings of loss for Pam still pulsing through my heart... my belief that knowing my father in whatever way this life allows is important, becomes even stronger.
We don't know how much time we have here. Not a single one of us. We never know what conversations will be our last. We never truly know when we will see someone again... Really telling someone how I feel has never been my strong point, but the importance of doing so has been screaming in my ear for the last week. I don't want my father to die thinking that I hate him, or that he ruined my life. I don't want him to think that I would never understand his choices, or that I would never forgive him. It is for these reasons, that I hope he has not shut this door.
My wish for all of you, my lovelies, is that you take every moment you have to let those around you know how special they are to you. That when you think those kind thoughts, you turn them into kind words. You may never know the impact kind words may have on someone's life, but you might, if you muster up the courage and energy to say them. But what you will know, is that if by tragedy or circumstance, you never have the opportunity to converse with them again... you will have expressed your gratitude for their presence in your life. And with that, I will thank each and every one of you, for being kind enough to share this magical, mysterious, and sometimes, maddening, life... with me.
1 comment:
Thank-you Mona, for sharing all this.
We all think back on moments we have lost, and vow to lose no more. And yet we manage to lose them still.
I've been thinking long about these moments the last several months...and you put into words so eloquently, the things I feel.
May your moments with your father be deep and true...and not one of them lost.
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