(The Mighty Kymm--you'll not see nothing like!)


17 July

Reading this, suddenly, I am overwhelmed with sadness at the loss of my father. I cry literally as though I had just gotten a call telling me that he died just now, just this very minute, and I realized that I would never see him again, except for on TV. I widen my eyes, trying to make it stop, but it must last as long as it lasts, which isn't long, maybe two minutes, maybe three.

The other day, after watching the Sex in the City where Miranda's mother dies, Fran got up from the sofa and asked Cynthia and I, "When will I stop being an open wound?" "Not for awhile yet," I answer, truthfully, but not with the whole truth.

Later, I told him that it never goes away, that it's like this forever, just not in the front of your head, that it becomes part of the bone, part of my identity will always be that I am a person who misses her father, that my mother's mother died before I was born and she still misses her enormously, still dreams that they are walking together, and she says, "They told me that you were dead, but I knew that it couldn't be true."

Of course, this is because she was in California and her mother was in Belgium when she died, so because she wasn't there, it never quite felt real. But you know what? I saw my father die, I was in the room, I saw his body empty, and I feel the same way, I truly believe that someday he'll call, or I'll go home and he'll be sitting in his chair in the den, or I'll get one of his letters with his wildly sloppy handwriting and something clipped from the paper that he thought I'd like.

I think this has to do with the fact that I live across the country from where he lived, so it's easy to feel like he's really there, he just hasn't called recently.

It really never ever stops, not ever. Usually it doesn't matter, I can certainly talk about him easily without weeping like a faucet, it causes me no pain at all to tell people that he is dead, or look at the picture of my parents that I keep on my desk at work, but sometimes I'll read something, like a journal entry by a college girl writing about her father leaving messages on her answering machine, wondering why he sounds so sad, and it's like I've been hit.

I miss you, Daddy.

(egyptian line)

Today's horoscope:
Input or assistance from friends or family can be helpful at work today. A minor change or reorganization pays major dividends.

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Last Updated Wed 18 July 09:52:09 2001