Unfinished Business

Ten years ago I really started hating February.  Not that I particularly enjoyed the month anyway.

To be precise February 11th, was its death knell.

That was the day that my father passed from this existence on to the next.

While his death wasn’t a surprise, his terminal illness was a dead give away. My own reaction to an expected conclusion was an unexpected surprise. I thought I had steeled myself against the tsunami of grief.  I watched it sweep across my entire family, leaving us all clinging to whatever structures of normalcy we could find.

I loved my dad.  After his death, I hated him equally. Grief is a process that never makes sense.

So, I honor my father through writing.  I miss his laugh, his wit.  The raucous twinkle in his eye at a good joke.  I miss his devotion to his family, to God and his country.  I miss that damn beat-up tin mug he always had on his camping trips that he drank hot cocoa from.

I miss his love of singing.  I miss his terrible harmonica playing, yes it was awful, but he loved to do it.  I loved his stories of his life, I wish he’d have written more down.

The man I loved wasn’t perfect, but he was my father.  I wasn’t ready for him to go.

I miss him. I’m still mad that he left with unfinished business.

About Leila

I hail from the East and view the world as my playground. I'm opinionated. My dog is my co-pilot, but my cat navigates better. I'm only limited by my imagination. While there are terrible things that happen in the world I am responsible for making good things happen where I live, and that affects the world at large making it a better place.
This entry was posted in Family, Life, Personal, Remembrance and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Unfinished Business

  1. Shawna says:

    Was it that he had unfinished business, or you did?

    • Leila says:

      Both. Isn’t it always?

      • Kim Warnick says:

        Your post about February and your Father’s death was very meaningful and so well-expressed. I really liked the way you wrote “passed from this existence” instead of passed away or died….Tsunami of grief was another powerful image. You know my Dad died almost 4 years ago. I second your thoughts. These men weren’t perfect, but they were important to us! Kim

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