Thirty years gone by in the blink of an eye
I was 36 years old when my father passed away, 11 days after Christmas 1992
You died on a Tuesday morning, early, on a job site in Santa Clarita.
Barbara (my brother’s wife) called me at work where I was furiously preparing to depart to the Mac World conference in San Francisco. That call stopped the world from spinning and time from ticking.
Enter . . . the Twilight Zone.
Then
My last memory of you is from Christmas Day evening at Rob’s house in Dana Point. Family and guests were milling about, preparing to depart after a lovely day of packages, presents, food, and laughter.
I retain a snapshot moment from that parting: You were dressed in your Christmas plaid shirt with red suspenders. I watched you hug someone good-bye and thought to myself, “My, he looks good.” Little did I know that it would be the last time I would see you alive on earth.
Eleven days later you were gone.
I won’t go into the agony of the following week filled with shockingly unexpected duties: Retrieving your personal effects from the rented room in Santa Clarita; identifying your body at Rose Hills mortuary; dealing with mom’s grief.
And I’ll skip the details of the following year of “Firsts:” First birthday without you; first Thanksgiving without you; first Christmas without you.
Sometimes, “First” really sucks.
But, eventually, the whirlwind of time sweeps away the bitter chaff of sorrow like so much dust in the wind. I know it did for me.
Now
Thirty years and a day have passed since you left us for eternity future. Mom joined you in 2018. Some of us may soon be there. All of that is to say this: We miss you, Dad. Seems like just yesterday we celebrated that last Christmas with you.
Then again, it seems like it was eons ago. But, that memory — that snapshot — is still fresh in my mind. Plaid shirt; red suspenders; hugging your family.
What a beautiful but brief time we had to enjoy it all. Sadly, we all took most of it for granted, as people often do. But, you were there and we were there and it all really happened.
Long ago.
Miss you, Dad.