since Dad passed away. i was living and working in philly at the time. my brother and sister drove from ny to my apt to get me. i didn’t drive yet, didn’t have a car.
i woke up that morning for a long run. 2 years later, i would run my one and only nyc marathon (as a resident of pa) holding one of his ny yankee hats.
i remember crying the entire trip from pa to ny. i remember mom at the door standing there numb. she doesn’t remember much of that time now. i kind of don’t either. only when we went to the funeral home.
my eldest brother put his badge in the coffin. my youngest brother’s friend put ny yankee game tickets in the pocket of his suit jacket. my sister the nun left a personal sealed letter. my niece put her penn state pin in (having just been accepted)…
i put one of my favorite earrings in with him (silver moon and stars) and told him i would eventually want it back.
somewhere in the vast amounts of paper that occupy my beautifully deep and large bronx apt closet is a list of what every one of my siblings left in dad’s coffin…
mom told me what she left. it is personal. i’ve never told a soul.
i remember my brothers and a few of their friends carrying my dad to the hearse. the respect shown him…the care… the shots fired in the air, the folding of the flag..the leaving his grave site piled with flowers and wreaths…the worry that he’d be cold…
when i visit mom, we would go to the grave…22 years of this. she’s slowed down so much.
i know the time is coming when i will visit both of them alone…
my siblings have all gradually left ny. it’s just 3 of us now out of 8. some went south, one went north, 2 others went west.
me? i’m in the worst borough of nyc. highest opiod addiction, lots of mental illness, and crime.
i have a few years left before retirement and i have no clue where to retire. i wanted to retire abroad (Europe) but considering all of the upheaval in many countries and the war, that doesn’t seem like a good choice anymore…. maybe i’ll go to Canada, since the world will eventually become warmer and warmer.
i just want peace and quiet. somewhere i can have cats and finally a dog. somewhere clean, with darksky parks so that i can spend my nights gazing at the stars…
dad. i think of you often. i miss sitting at the kitchen table with you and mom drinking coffee and eating breakfast. i miss listening to you tell stories of your army days, your farm days in PR, your mischievousness as a young boy. mom still tells some of them although she’s beginning to get them mixed up…
there is a heaviness in the air, the changes keep coming, the people keep leaving and in between moments of ordinary living are spaces filled with the painful facts that one day i will no longer be.
what will happen to my plants and pile of books? endless letters from david, the ashes of my beloved cats? my paint brushes, my well worn dansko clogs, my Levi jeans? who’s hands will throw out my journals, my cat socks, my bamboo cutting board, my beautiful pea coat? who will discard my dad’s yankee hats, his prayer cards and grocery store discount cards?
what will happen to all the words i’ve written in this vast World Wide Web?
dad. i see you in the building super – kind, always smiling and helpful. i see you in my brothers faces. i see you when mom tells your stories. i see you in the sadness of her face…
