This day is usually solemn for me. It’s not a big deal really. Everyone is celebrating their fathers– it’s not a big deal when you’ve lost yours. My husband is a wonderful father and deserves this very special day. I know he feels my sadness, I see it in his face. Is why I love him so. I put on a happy face for my sweetheart, but inside my heart is breaking. I wish it were just a regular day like any other. But it’s a day for crying for me. Always! To remember who I’ve lost. To remember how different things would be if he were here. To remember how happier our family was, and to remember how much he really meant to us all. It is a sad day for me.
I visited the cemetary and I took my kids. They didn’t want to play around like they used to when they were smaller. They just wanted to talk of grandpa being in heaven. So I tried to get them to talk of what they remember about grandpa. My 6yo was only 1 when Daddy passed so she didn’t remember much. Even though she swore back and forth she remembered him. She sees his pictures at home everyday. My 8yo remembers him using a keyboard to help him talk. The ALS had taken his voice. He remembers grandpa telling him to ask grandma because he could not help him himself. He was confined to a wheelchair. So I told them stories to remember their grandpa. They were my stories of when I was little.
About a few feet back from where we were, I saw another lady sitting quietly among the bushes with a blanket, book and water, it looked like. She was reminicing herself too, on Father’s Day. Did she loose her father also? She wore glasses…to cover her tears perhaps.
My kids went back to the truck, and I told my husband I wanted a few minutes alone. He looked at me a little worried and said, okay. So I walked back to the grave site and sat. I reflected on how nice and fresh the wind was. The grass was always so green. It was a peaceful place. Perfect for Daddy. I want to come visit some more– alone with you, Daddy. And sit in this quietness and calmness. Perhaps it will do me good away from this craziness called my life. I try so hard trying to find some calm, and I think I can find it here with you.
Father’s Day is another day because I really do miss him everyday…not just Father’s Day again.
In Memory of Frank Cortez Jr. 1944-2007