It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m gallivanting around Spain. I’m allowing myself some truly uninhibited freedoms by doing what I want, when I want, in Madrid, with one of my best friends out of college.
So clearly, that means I’m writing ahead of time. But that goes to show that I know, even days before the anniversary of his death, that I’ll be thinking of him. I always say this time of year that I never used to understand how people “couldn’t go a day without thinking about people who are no longer in their lives.” I learned real quick when this guy passed away. Not a single day, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, goes by without this guys face flashing before my eyes.
But a wise one he was. As empty as I felt the moment my Mom told me that he was gone, life slowly started making me feel whole again. And despite a “bump in the road” with Mom’s passing, again, that empty feeling started to get filled up again. Why was he a wise one? Because he knew this is how it would happen in the event that he wasn’t with us anymore.
You know that quote? The one about living a long life and only learning one thing for certain? That life goes on? That was my Dad’s entire attitude about how to approach life and death. And he wasn’t phased by it. If he was scared of his own mortality, it wasn’t anything we ever picked up on. My parents were cool like that, you see, because they accepted the inevitable and chose to only worry about what they could control.
I hope I’m cool like them someday. I hope my kids think their grandparents were cool, even if they never met them.
Every year, my little memorial post is more or less the same. Thankfully, the outlook is becoming increasingly positive. Though the death of parent isn’t something you just “get over,” it is something that becomes easier to deal with. My Dad’s only been gone four years but I definitely feel the difference already.
To you P, and for all your wise words.
Happy New Year’s, friends. Please, enjoy your night, but don’t forget to hug your loved ones. Our times together are so fragile. Loss happens at the most unexpected of times, so don’t pass up the opportunity to show your gratitude, even if just with a simple “I love you.” Those three words mean the world. I only wish I had the opportunity to hear them from my Dad again.