A Passing

The call came - the one that I predicted would come.  My brother called to tell me that my father had died.  It was Monday morning in Japan, Sunday evening here in the States.  Jason, the kids and I were sitting in our living room, surrounded by all our packed luggage, waiting four our taxi to take us on the first steps of our journey home.  He passed more quickly than any of us really expected, before I was able to come home.  He'd had lung cancer, brain cancer, and complications from the surgery to remove the tumors in his brain.  He wasn't ever well after the surgery, but the last straw for him was pneumonia.

I had no idea how I would feel when he died, and even now that he is gone I don't know how I feel.  I keep getting caught up in the sad emotion that now I have no dad, my dad is gone, I'll never see my dad again.  But, in all honestly, we were not close to begin with.  I hadn't need him in 16 years or so and wasn't planning to see him again.  I do have a dad, I have Skip, the man that has been my step -father and better dad than most since I was 9 years old.  But, the truth remains that I have lost a parent, a person that contributed greatly to who I am today.  I am sad, I am a little lost.

For a long as I can remember I've been doing a double take when ever I would see a man that even closely resembled my dad.  At the store, in the street, everywhere.  I'd see a man that could be him and have to stop and look again.  My heart would start to race for the breifest moment that I thought it could be him.  But, it was never him.  I did it just the other night as we waited for our baggage at the airport here in Seattle.  There was a man, I stopped to look.  It wasn't him of course as it will never be him now.

Thank you to everyone that was so supportive when I first shared that my dad was ill.  Now that he is gone the real work begins for me.  There has always been a part of me that has been waiting for him to find me and confess his wrongs, apologize to me, and acknowledge the damage he has caused to so many lives.  Of course the biggest part of me knew that would never happen.  In his passing I have to reconcile those parts of me, the honest, realistic part wins while the hopeful, happily-ever-after part losses.  I guess it's a small death on it's own.  I will wade through what ever comes my way in that fusing of my parts.  I am not really looking forward to all that, and I may sort of set all this aside for a while, as I just don't know that I am ready.  Will I ever be?  Not sure. I know that you all will be there for me whether I do this now or later.  Thank you for that too - just knowing that feels good.


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