The Aerie
Well, today would have been my father's 68th birthday.
Sorting through my papers on my desk I came across a copy of the last photograph that I ever got of him, enlarged from a picture of him among people in the room during D's 8th birthday party.
He died December 26th last year, so this is the second birthday that he's missed.
At a year's remove I can't say that my feelings for him or regarding his death have changed much. I feel bad that I don't feel more about it, but... I don't. I feel worse for my mother, I know it's been hard for her to be alone.
But my dad was never a Ward Cleaver type. He wasn't particularly affectionate, he didn't play a very large role in my life except as an authority figure when I was a child. We didn't do stuff together, and we didn't talk much - mostly because we disagreed on a lot, and he could get pretty rude when one didn't agree with him.
I thought that maybe a year out I'd feel something more, or different. But I regret to say that I don't.
I guess I feel bad for him, that he got screwed out of some kind of retirement by the forces of fate. I feel bad for my mother that she's alone. And my sister seems real upset about his being gone.
But me? Once or twice I've missed him - like going to my sister's for her kid's birthday and expecting to see him there, only to remember he was gone. Or once or twice when something noteworthy came to mind, but I couldn't mention it to him.
But mostly.. the grief has been underwhelming.
I'm disappointed and I wonder what that says about me, rather than what it says about him.
Posted by Albatross at January 6, 2004 2:15 PM