Because I see you in my son's face when the light gets things right

March 27, 2018 11:38 AM

Because I am quiet. Because you are dying. Because it is night. Because the stars are out. Because fathers die. Because I will miss your hands. Because I will miss Niners games on Sundays. Because we still have more books to read. Because my son doesn't really know you. Because memories fade. Because memories lie. Because fuck memories. Because cancer. Because cancer is not capitalized. Because Tracy Chapman songs. Because the Bee Gees. Because cassette tapes in your green car with the rotten banana peels on the floor. Because you let me sing. Because you told me I was your favorite even when it wasn't true. Because I was nine. Because I was sad. Because I was always sad. Because swim meets and tap recitals and science fair projects. Because popcorn in olive oil. Because walks by the ocean. Because you let me put my skates on. Because you didn't spank us even when she wanted you to. Because Neil Diamond said turn on your heartlight. Because what is heartlight? Because I am your daughter. Because you are so thirsty. Because the doctors say no water. Because fluid in your lungs. Because cancer. Because cancer is not capitalized... Maybe Something by Tamuira Reid
posted by not_the_water (11 comments total)

My father's own history with our family is different (my parents are still together), but that doesn't make a damn bit of difference, I know this is what it's going to be like when my father passes and that terrifies me.
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 11:46 AM on March 27, 2018 [2 favorites]

It is and will be and it is terrifying but you will be okay. :)
posted by We put our faith in Blast Hardcheese at 11:51 AM on March 27, 2018 [6 favorites]

The alternative is so much worse.
posted by night_train at 12:03 PM on March 27, 2018 [2 favorites]

Ugh, gutpunch because 81 year old dad isn't doing great and 20 year old daughter who calls in tears and anxiety and I miss terribly. Deep breath.
posted by chococat at 12:24 PM on March 27, 2018 [4 favorites]

Mom's doing great at 83, but it's a matter of time of course. I tell myself that millions of other people, well billions, have gotten through this, so, I can too.
posted by thelonius at 1:41 PM on March 27, 2018 [3 favorites]

Because you heard my first breath and I'll hear your last. Because this makes us close in some way we have never been.

Damn.
posted by any portmanteau in a storm at 1:49 PM on March 27, 2018 [8 favorites]

Oh Jesus...this is a sad one. My parents are in great shape at sixty(cough) and 72 but I'm at the age where my peers' parents dying is a thing now and not an outlying fluke.

Think I'll text and see how the old man's doing...
posted by kimberussell at 3:09 PM on March 27, 2018

I miss my dad in one way, my mom in another, and it doesn't really hurt anymore but I miss them always.
posted by emjaybee at 5:52 PM on March 27, 2018 [3 favorites]

Oh dear god. It's been a shit day and this took the last bit of fight out of me but it's so real.

Why are we ever mean to each other? Why don't we remember to reconcile? It all goes so very fast anyways.
posted by allium cepa at 8:42 PM on March 27, 2018 [3 favorites]

This is a beautiful reminder to me to think of the totality of my relationship with my parents who are both gone. I have a tendency to beat myself up about small stuff and so for my dad, I obsess on the fact that he was as addicted to Chapstick as I am and in the week it took him to die, I used the glycerin swabs the hospital supplied on his dry lips, but it never occurred to me to use a Chapstick. I know he was barely conscious, but it just really bugs me. When my mom died, the caregivers at the home had cleaned her up and changed her into a thin white nightgown by the time we got there (she died suddenly in the middle of the night). There was quite a wait for the guy from the funeral home to arrive and brother, sis-in-law, and I sat with her body sharing memories and talking quietly. It didn't occur to me to give the funeral home some clothes for her--especially some warm socks. So my mom, who was always cold, went off to eternity in a thin nightgown and bare feet. Intellectually, I believe when you are gone, you are gone, the body is just a physical shell, etc., etc. But every once in a while, there is this gut-punching memory that I failed her in this way.
posted by agatha_magatha at 9:48 AM on March 28, 2018 [2 favorites]

Depending on when you count it, I lost my dad 5 (when he passed) or almost 15 (when the strokes and Alzheimers started erasing him) years ago.

Reading that... well, it turns out that that thing in my emotions that I thought was healed and just a scar is actually a fresh scab with super raw, new skin underneath still.
posted by hanov3r at 1:16 PM on March 28, 2018 [1 favorite]