I Miss Him So MuchEvery now and then, on nights like tonight, I wish to God with all my soul that I could just hug him one more time.
I know it's because his death anniversary just passed. I know it's because I went to mass today and they announced a special prayer request for him, my abuela (grandma), and my abuelito (grandpa).
I was looking through photos of my cat to print out for a tiny picture fr
I remember how I stopped in my tracks, watched them there, and thought, "One day, I won't be able to see both of my parents lying in bed like this again." I'd never see them taking afternoon naps like that, the way they'd done in what seems like their whole lives together. I took the photo.
It's simple. I could see the dust on my father's black socks, his jogging pants, the dark spots on his legs. I see the silver nail polish on my mom's nails, how they lay comfortably amongst pillows, the blankets kicked to the side like it may have been a warm day.
I see my father's rifles beside the bed, between the night stand and the mattress. It's so normal to me.
I'm in college now, living away from home. Nothing is the same as it used to be. It kills me seeing my dad's thinning hair from the cancer and chemo, his oxygen tube, but at least I know he was still alive. He almost seems in pain even as he sleeps, but I love him anyway. I love him with his weakened body, his lost muscle, I love him even though he was too sick to work and I know it hurt him.
I don't often have the courage to look or listen, but I pulled up a video of my dad talking to my mom about how he met her. I miss the way he smiles. I miss the way he'd joke with her.
I'm choking up with tears just writing this. When I see photos of him, I just want to reach out and stroke the paper, touch my computer screen as if it'll bring me close to him, and that last time I kissed his cheek before he died two years ago.
His death anniversary is December 11th, and I'll never forget that day.
I miss him so much.
Every now and then, I stay up like this, late into the night, and I cry my eyes out. The pain just wells up inside me, and for those moments, I feel like I'd give anything in the world just to hug him again, to hear his heart beat, to hear his jokes, his laugh, to kiss his cheek, to tell him how much I love him.
When I go to church, that's all I pray for. That he's happy, with God. I ask God to please, please tell my dad that I love him, because I know it always meant so much to him to hear me say it.
I love you, Dad. I can't believe it's been 2 years. It feels like I've been hurting for so much longer.
I miss you. I miss everything about you. Please come back...
I'm trying to be strong, but I want you here beside me again. You were my inspiration, my pillar of strength. You weren't perfect, but you meant the world to me... Please, please, please... It hurts so much, and these days I wonder--I'm so afraid--if I might be losing Mom soon...