|

|
|
Your Voice. Your Vision. Your Victory.
It's been nearly a year since my father passed and I'm beginning to think of the last time that I saw him and the last time that I spoke with him. Grief has a way of grabbing you and pulling you back into time. It was this time last year when Shadeur Sanders got drafted in the fifth round of the NFL draft. My father was not happy about him not going in the first round.
That day I was out at lunch with my son at P.F Chang. We decided to take my father a meal and part of that meal was a key lime dessert. My father loved key lime pies. And so we went to the Brown House to take him him a meal. I got to see him and he looked good. He had recently gotten out of the hospital and seemed to be doing better.
I remember him calling me the weekend before he passed because there was a tragic incident on UC's campus. My father called me to tell me to make sure that my son's knew what had happened and that they were safe. It was important to him that they knew to be alert.
I try not to have regrets about not seeing him more. This time last year I was in a whole different space in my life, with healing from illness, going to physical therapy and returning to work on an elementary behavior unit. Plus I was trying to rest, heal and get back to normal. Whatever normal was.
I think I'm finding comfort right now by remembering seeing my dad on the porch, which is one of our favorite places at the brown house, and us having that conversation. We had talked throughout the next week but I did not get a chance to go see him.
The last time I saw him... I had to come down from the porch that he loved to sit on to watch him leave the Brown House one last time.
Writing has helped to process things. At least a little bit.