Dear Daddy

Daddy-

Today I vacuumed. I really needed to. The dog hair was puddling underneath the dog’s sofa. You know the green sofa next to the window- next to the view of the river that you sat and stared out at from the red sofa. I mean those little hairs, they truly were piling. I know, his hair is so short and all but I guess it is some kind of shedding season. Yesterday I did laundry. I washed and dried it. Today I put it away. The day before that- I don’t remember what I did. That day is an empty memory. The day before the day I don’t remember- it was the day you left. I remember that day. I remember my brother’s voice- the doctor’s voice- calling from the hospital. They wanted my permission to cease CPR and all of the other electric shock, medicine shooting to your heart- they wanted me to say OK to letting you die already. The doctor was a woman and she apologized for asking me to make these decisions from so far away. She was nice and she answered all of the questions that I could think of- but there weren’t a lot of questions to ask. You had this little brain electrical thing but other than that- I guess you were already gone.

And then there was arranging the cremation thing and talking to mom as she tried to pick out the right box for you...a box you won’t be in for long...a box that maybe doesn’t contain you at all. A fisherman engraved on the box, a flag??? We decided on nothing...just your name. What would you have chosen?

So now you are not in this world with me and I am having an impossible time without you. Not absolutely impossible, I am taking care of our little one who is throwing up and running a fever. But, I am distracted, constantly distracted by your absence. The first day I cried. The days after I couldn’t find the tears ... I waited for them. I studied your picture and asked when the tears would come back.....because my entire body, my whole being, went into this weird robot mode. Robots don’t cry. Yes, I know, me my emotional me- rendered to a robotic state. True- but I apologize- I know you expect much more.

Every day without you is a day with something terribly missing. I will need to go back home now, within days, fly across the country and sort through your things- our things as you kept my room the same all of these years later. Should I sleep there- will you comfort me or keep me awake? Whatever you want. I don’t feel ready because I can’t feel a heck of a lot without hearing your voice every day. I almost pick up the phone a dozen times a day before I realize that you won’t be answering.

It’s like every minute that I can’t hear your voice a part of me dissolves. I know- that makes you mad. You want me to be strong. You know I need to be strong- I am a mom and all. I will try harder.

I love you-wherever you are. I miss you so much.

Your Daughter Forever and Ever,

Di Di
xoxo