I Miss You Dear Dad -

I believe the phrase “a zest for life” was invented the day my dad was born. He had such a passion and interest in everything around him…and it wasn’t just some days, it was really every day. I found it infectious and delightful – whether he was teaching me as a young girl how to make Chinese stir fry, telling me about the textures and colors of the buildings he loved, or quietly talking about the meaning of life over cups of coffee. My dad loved to live and did it with all he was.

One of the biggest connections I found with my dad was through our mutual love of nature. We enjoyed both sharing and talking about experiences, and in particular shared the bond of how nature makes us feel – grounded, alive, and peaceful. After moving here, he was proud to take me on a few hikes on the Cape, and especially knew how much I love Audubon.

My dad and I did regular Zoom calls in the months leading up to when he stopped talking. We had a different topic each week, and he would bring creative homework (art, music, poetry) from the previous week. During one of those last calls, he wrote out a poem he found, emailed it to me, and then read it out loud. He struggled to read, but I heard him clearly. At quick glance, the poem is about someone dying and turning into the earth. It was really hard to hear, and I admit I didn’t like the poem.

It wasn’t until after my dad passed away that I finally understood the poem. I found myself standing outside in a giant paved parking lot, still numb from his death, when the sky went dark and I heard the crack of thunder. I looked up, reflexively closing my eyes, and I felt my father wash over me. The rain spilled on my cheeks, mixing with tears, and I was brought back to the poem he gave me. My dad is in the clouds. He is in the rain. He is in the trees and the birds and the dragonflies that follow me around when I water my garden. When I dig my toes in the grass, or watch grains of sand flow through my fingers, he is there. He is in the moon, the stars, and the sun that kisses my face. He is as much a part of me, as he always was, and he always will be.

I found solace when I realized the ability I had to find my dad, a comfort to a grieving daughter. I also found the courage to re-read the poem he recited to me that spring day, and deeply understand it’s meaning. We all reach a stage, in which it is time for our body to go. But this does not mean we are gone, for the essence of each of us is energy that is far beyond just a body. I can imagine the scattering of light, love and beauty my dad’s passing created.

So thank you dad – even when I cannot find you anymore, you are everywhere, and all at once. Love truly is eternal.

I will now recite my dad’s poem to me.