23 Years

The passage of time and how we define it can be traced to very specific events, moments, or even those that are about to occur. Yet those that are about to occur are at best unpredictable. Lately, I've been wishing that time would stand still and that air of unpredictability would escape me. I thought of trying to be very existential with this post and think of some muse of Aristotelian thought or maybe even go a little "crazy" and define some Heideggerian mentality that hearken sentimentality of this day. Alas, it's rather late and the flowing thoughts aren't being philosophical but lending to a nostalgic tenderness. I think about this day some 23 yrs. ago as I sat by his side, his body now failing him as a horrible disease consumed it. He didn't know I was there as he slipped in and out of a coma. I had hoped the angels were providing for him as I watched his body arch and settle down. I spoke to him but he did not respond to my voice. I told him I was there and it was going to be alright, but again he did not hear me. I would have liked to have one more talk with him, to tell him how much I loved him and that all the years of pain and sorrow we had gone through didn't matter. I would have wanted to say, "can we have another game of catch"? or "will you take me fishing one more time"? I wanted to watch "Shane" with him one more time like we did last night and I wanted him to sing "Danny Boy" to me one more time. I wanted to say that for all those painful moments, I would joyously give up those 23 yrs. to have one more day with you. I knew that you were still there for me and that your love for me never failed for that's what dad's do for their sons. I wanted to tell him that I would miss him each and every day he would be gone. There isn't a day that goes by that he's not in my thoughts and I miss him terribly. Paul died Sept. 29, 1986-23 yrs. ago today. He was only 71.