Since You've Been Gone...

This month we celebrated 27 years of your return back home.  And, every year, on this month, I find myself wondering how things would have been if you'd only stayed.  Mostly, what I think about is having you around, physically, so that I can see your face, watch your reactions, feel your touch and warm embrace.  I don't wonder anymore how differently life would have been, because I'm happy with the way it's turned out.  You left, but I still feel you around.  I still feel the approval and understanding I often seek in everyone else near me, and only find it lingering in the air around me.  Last night, you came to my mind so strongly and vividly and I decided that it was time to write to you.

Our time with you was so short.  I used to feel cheated, but now I feel in peace.  What happened was meant to happen, as tragic as it was.  Mom did a superb job.  Even with all her self-doubts, self inflicted guilt and spurts of anger, she instilled in us a foundation of love and sacrifice.  Growing up with her as an example, hardly, made us feel that we were missing a parent.  She deserves all the kudos in the world for the exemplary way she handled her life and how she raised two children, practically, on her own.

I remember my "rebellious" teenage years, and how I cried my sorrows and heartaches to you.  I talked to you in my heart, picturing you attentively listening to my stories until serenity took over my body again.  For the first time in my whole entire life, I'm learning what it means to be vulnerable.  I'm learning to drown myself in complete vulnerability and let things go.  I'm learning to follow my passions and lifelong dreams.  I'm learning to let go of the feeling of "responsibility" that I imposed on myself from the moment you were no longer around.  Finally, I'm learning to be me, with all my glories and faults.  I am proud of the history behind me, and welcome the future in front of me.  Most importantly, however, I cherish the moment I'm in.

Since you've been gone, dad, lots have happened, but we managed.  I hope that while we live our lives here, without the luxury to see your smile or feel your embrace, you can see us from where you are.  I think you'd be proud of how we've been managing, and most importantly how we forgave.  Thank you for the short time you chose to spend with us, and for the lessons that we derived from it.  Thank you for your genetic gift of humor that both my brother and I inherited.  And, thank you, for being our guardian angel for the past 27 years. 

I love you and I know I will see you again someday.