The Sun Continues to Turn
Today my father would have turned 84. I wonder what he would have looked like. I wonder how he would react to who we all are now, especially my 13-year-old son. I will wonder for the rest of my life.
The sharp ache of my father’s physical absence does not go away; it simply ebbs and flows. And I feel it every day, but particularly so on special occasions like this one.
I am forever grateful that I got to celebrate my father’s last birthday with him. We have such beautiful pictures of him holding his then 5-month-old grandson, beaming with joy and pride. His last birthday was a good one.
Despite the impossibility of celebrating my father the same way I would if he were alive today, I can and do celebrate him.
I celebrate him by honoring the values he instilled in me.
I celebrate him by making his image and the life he led real for my son.
I celebrate him by being invested, loving and present in every relationship and in everything I do.
I celebrate him by knowing there is always more for me to learn about the world and myself in it.
I celebrate him by having no regrets — I told my father in life time and time again how much I loved and cherished him and he left this world knowing he lived in my heart.
I celebrate him by turning my face towards the sun and knowing that in its light, he remains with me still.
I celebrate my father — and the legacy I carry — today and every day.
Loor al 18 de mayo de 1.940. Praise to May 18, 1940.
