I’ve started missing my dad, even though he’s still alive.
That’s partly because his twin brother, my uncle Richard, died last summer and now I’m more aware than I used to be that I won’t have him around forever.
I was at home last week and we worked on tough-guy father-son projects together, like building a fence, changing out tail lights, and fixing a tractor.
I used to groan at these chores. But last week every interaction was heightened. Every moment was like gold, mainly because now I realize I won’t have these forever.
In one moment, at the dinner table, I remember noticing the knuckle of his middle finger had started to bend with bits of arthritis.
In another moment we raised our voices at each other like we used to, but then we each humbly apologized, because we’re both adults, and because he’s a good man.
In another moment I said I was curious who he considered to be his best friends and he choked back rare tears and then said he said he misses his brother Richard.
These moments feel so eternal and important right now. Maybe I’m finally starting to glimpse how every moment really is recorded forever.
The reason I’m writing this in a public blog is that, I’ve realized how precious each moment with certain people in my life is. And if you haven’t yet realized that, I encourage you to think about losing them, and letting that help you love them well.
My mom died a decade ago, and I’m glad that we loved each other well, because now she’s gone. My dad and I have had a little bit harder time, just because I thought we we’re so different. But in the trying to love each other, I’ve seen how much we really are alike.
And I’m proud to be like you, Dad.
I already miss you, even while I still have you. And I’m so grateful for last week with you.
Raw Spoon, 5-19-15