From: bmurray93@yahoo.com
Date: March 30, 2007 6:55 p.m.
Subject: Wish you were here
Hi daddy,
I was cleaning out my yahoo email address book today and I found your email address there.
Wow. It took my breath away.
I don't get caught off guard much anymore, so when it happens, it's all the more startling. So, I sat there for a few minutes, pondering whether or not to delete it from my address book. Leaving it there would be pointless really. Yet, I still sat there debating the decision.
Why is that? What am I afraid I’ll lose if I let go of things like this? It’s just symbols. Of things we did, things we shared, times together.
Of you being here.
That’s what it comes down to. I don’t want to disturb anything that keeps you closer to here.
The $100 bill you gave me the last time we talked is still on my fridge. I know you wouldn’t want that. You would want me to spend it. But, you also know me well enough to know that I just can’t.
The thing is, you’re not here. I believe you are in a perfect place now. One where there is no pain, no tears, nothing but eternal peace and joy. And while I can only imagine how amazing and awesome that must be, I still want you here...
I deleted your address from my address book. It’s gone. And it was hard clicking “yes” to the question, “Are you sure you wish to delete this address?” But I tried to remember that I can talk to you anytime I wish. I can pretend to send you an email, I can talk to you when I’m driving, I can imagine the loving advice you would give me in return.
So, since I am here, I will live my life with you as a part of me. I’ll keep any tangible reminders of you if my heart tells me I must, but above all, I will try to be the person you inspired me to be.
After all, I am my father’s daughter.
I love you daddy and I miss you dearly.
Your daughter,
Donna
2 comments:
I think this must be the day for remembering...
Momma said you she a rough day too. She told me that the guy Chuck that she went out with liked to sing kareoake (spelling?). She asked him to sing something for her. Of course he choses the song of all songs..."Only you" which is what Momma said was her and Daddy's song. She said she couldn't make him stop because she has asked him to sing it. She said folding laundry at my house on Wednesday (Stephen went to school that day since she was going home) she found herself crying thinking about that because she didn't get a chance or feel right crying at the moment.
She said looking back there were signs of the end that was to come. She said the very last time they were intimate she remembers thinking "I hope that I always remember what your body feels like." Not a discussion you want to have with your mom. But that has to be the most beautiful thing a mom could ever tell you about what making love really means. I kept it together on the phone with her because I didn't think my crying would help her day. Right now on the other hand, tears are streaming down my face.
You should look at my blog and read the words to the song "Learning to Live Again" by Garth Brooks. Momma said she listened to it over and over again when she borrowed it from me.
I feel like we are all learning to live again. Most days are easy. Others aren't so easy.
I am so happy that Momma has found such peace in dancing. It reminds me of a journal I once had that said:
I get up. I walk. I fall down. Meanwhile, I keep dancing.
What would I do without music? It is my language. I have never been that good with words, but music speaks for me....
Dance With My Father
Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I'd listen outside her door
And I'd hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream
Post a Comment