Say Hello For Me

I am like a child on Christmas Day wanting to cram in so much writing. Not that my feelings are bubbly, frothy and overjoyed- they aren't and don't need to be. They are pure, raw and mine.Undiluted, to the point and flowing- a writers dream. My heart is not blocked and heavy by others points-of-view, judgement, rationale, punishment, burden. For the very first time I am in my own head enough just to let my thoughts flow freely and stand in my own truth.

My heart cracked open in a new way yesterday, it has over the past month and hasn't stopped. Saturday was the Memorial Mass. It was beautiful, a family friend said the Mass, and knowing our big Italian family for well over thirty years, how chaotic we were - and of course it was all about the food. Loud people and food. But a very nice tribute to my dad as well.

Listening to my oldest brother give the Eulogy, I learned so much about my Dad through my brothers eyes.The girls were our mothers / the boys were our dad's. Lines were drawn so many years ago, now it was time sitting in this Church to decide for myself, what did I choose, what did I believe? How did I feel? Was it time to let go and decide for myself through my eyes, as my fathers daughter.

The little girl whose life depended on him at three years old in Children's Hospital, when doctors told my parents I wouldn't make it through the night, laying so ill with pneumonia.
He wouldn't leave my side for two weeks. I would cry even when he left for bathroom breaks.
I remember every moment. As my father lay dying in the hospital, he said to me, " Clare, do you remember that little girl?" I immediately burst into tears. I was three years old, yet I remembered then as I do in this moment that little girl. I was in a ward, with many sick children at Children's Hospital. That little girl had leukemia and was dying. Her parents had abandoned her, and my dad ( I'm sure it was unbearable for him to see her alone and dying) would go over to her crib, hold her, trying to comfort her. In all my three year old fear, wanting only my father, would get very upset. I never understood what he felt as he said through the years,  "Clare, do you remember that little girl." Of course I remembered her,  she took my dad away. How could I have possibly understood at that age anything else?  I understand now. Dad, I told you it was your turn, I wouldn't leave you. I kept my promise.

We got so far away from that through the years- really far. I was so happy to have the opportunity  for forgiveness with each other. Time to sit together even when you weren't conscious and just be. The greatest gift for me was bringing you back to the place I was most comfortable with -Hospice. Sitting in that room, like I had with so many others- it was different this time though. It was you, now the rules were different. I comforted, supported, held many hands- but I didn't know what  it really felt like. I was simply an observer who cared deeply. I knew because of Grandma.... but with your own parent suddenly it became much more real, and felt very different.  It hurt different.

Yesterday I felt you with me, through songs in the store, everywhere. Saying the same thing. Let go. It is all the same message- forgiveness and love. I am listening in my dreams - I hear you, feel you. It was impossible in life to have this- too much water between us.  I have always loved the song "The Water Is Wide." Perhaps that is how I will think of you now. I know you are at peace, I finally feel it. I am sorry you have suffered so much in this life. I wish I could have known you dad.... really known the man you wanted to be. I think now we have a really great beginning- now you can be the father you always wanted to be, and me the daughter. Say hello to that little girl from Children's Hospital for me dad. I did get the best part of you- I just didn't know it until now.