An Open Letter to my Dad

December 30, 2008

They buried your dad today.

It was a simple black casket.

The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, and it was just cool enough for a jacket. The breeze was blowing the flags on the nearby flagpoles.

I was a little late, because I had to drop off the kids and then make my way out there, and I found out at the last minute that it was at 11am, not in the afternoon like I thought.

The man from Hanes-Lineberry said that though he didn’t know if your dad was religious, he said a prayer. He also mentioned that some of your dad’s neighbors had called, wanting to come, but none of them were able to make it. A lot of them were elderly, and didn’t have a way over …

I was the only one there.

One of the gravediggers (is that what they’re still called?) turned to me after the hole had been filled, and asked me if I wanted to pay my last respects. I asked God to take care of him. And I thought a long time about what it must have been like, to live and die mostly alone. I stood there and thought about that for a long time.

Was he hiding from the world? Did he push everyone away?

I didn’t really know him at all. I don’t know what he did to you to make you leave him so completely. I really am not even sure what I did to make you leave me so completely. I would ask you to forgive me, for whatever it was. I remember that I was angry … I guess you were, too.

Can you be a part of my life again? Will my beautiful children know their grandfather? I don’t know what else to say, except for “Please.”

I hope you are alright, and that life has been good to you.

M.

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Comments
2 Responses to “An Open Letter to my Dad”
  1. Gord says:

    I sincerely hope that somewhere, somehow, he’ll see this. *hugs*

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