Sunday, March 25, 2012

SOC Sunday: Not my Father's 95th Birthday post

I. just. cannot. wait. for. March. to. be. over.


Today is March 25th. But this is NOT a birthday post for my Father, now dead these two years. And twelve days.

He would have been 95.

I wrote a beautiful post for him last year. You can go read it, here - Not his 94th Birthday. I told a funny story about how he got his name, James, which was NOT the name he was born with.

In fact looking back in my archives to find that one, I was surprised to see how many favorite posts I wrote last March. I remember it as being a bleak month and feeling the weight of the first anniversary of his death (and my recent operation) bearing down oh so heavily upon me.

But I suppose last year, of that pressure some diamonds were born.

Not quite so much tihs year. I am hardly writing, here. The lumps of coal are not transforming.

The NYC Listen to Your Mother show, which I am producing, has pretty much taken over my life. Which is a good thing, a marvelous counter to all my self-absorption. And it's a wonderful show, a fabulous enterprise with amazing partners (Amy, Holly, Betsy, Ann, Deb, our NYC cast, and the entire gang of production teams around the country - I LOVE you!)

But it is also requiring a lot of workaday writing. And I am not a fast writer. So it's nearly all going there, very little coming back here. Lots of pragmatics. Very little creating going on. Sigh.

I am also hardly being a good enough mother, a good enough daughter. I spent the day locked in yet another homework meltdown with Ethan. We didn't go see my mother, who hopefully did NOT remember what day it was. (She didn;t bring it up when we spoke on the phone and so neither did I, figuring why remind her when all it would bring would be sorrow.)

And I know a big chunk of my blue today is the date. Weighing upon me. A date I loved for 49 years: my beloved Father's birthday.

Once a day to celebrate. Now a date for grieving. For missing. For looking backwards.

And I know I was lucky to have had him for so long. I have so many fatherless friends who lost theirs way too young, too soon, who never got to see them grow up or marry or have kids of their own.

And I know that as far as fathers go he was pretty damn wonderful, and I was lucky there, too. He was certainly not perfect, I could easily list his flaws as a man and father. But he was always gentle, and I always, ALWAYS knew I was loved, valued, cherished... and that goes a long way.

But today I am not feeling lucky. Just sad.

I want my Dad back. (And while I really want the one from my childhood who would vanquish all monsters, today I'll even take the frail one I was basically parenting, from his final, fading years.)

Just one more hug. (Not possible. Memory will have to suffice.)

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

New to SOCS?  It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump.  Want to try it?  Here are the rules…
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  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.
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  1. Varda, as always your writing touches me in so many ways. Losing my dad when I was 26 I know how you feel, that loss is never really far from the tender part of your heart, but it's the people in your life and in your heart that help you deal with that ache.

    Your father raised an exceptional and phenomenal daughter...I know his love, grace and pride are forever pouring down on you.xo

  2. I know some of what you're feeling, having lost my mom a year and some months ago. Her birthday falls on or around mother's day (may 13) so that week in may is pretty emotional. I'm plotting to switch to the UK mother's day which is closer to my own bday.
    My heart aches with yours.

  3. I haven't lost my dad, but reading this makes me think about what it would be like if he wasn't here. And makes me realize I need to say "I love you" more, send more cards, SHOW it more.

    So thank you. And I'm sorry for your loss. Your dad sounds like a pretty wonderful guy.

  4. I know how much you miss him. I wish I could bring him back for one more hug for you.


I am so sorry to have to turn word verification back on, but the spam-bots have found me - yikes!