I was heading to Amsterdam for a
trade show and had some time to kill before my flight, so decided to check
in with my dad. In the remarkable quiet of Terminal A, I
had a wonderfully rich and intimate visit with my father -- meaty, real
and meaningful. I got on my flight filled with love. Or rather, I
boarded the plane feeling "loved". Let me tell you,
there’s no better way to cope with a 10-hour transcontinental flight!
As I wait for my connection to
Amsterdam today, (same trade show, just the 2014 version of it), I'm struck by
how shocked I am that a year has passed since we lost Dad. While
I've put the hospital stay and funeral behind me, today I’m sentimental,
reflecting back on my father and all that has transpired since he
died.
With the swirl of travel activity
around me here, I force myself to focus on happy memories. I smile, picturing myself talking with Dad last year from SFO and whisper my thanks for
that special father/daughter connection the phone visit invoked. The
conversation was a timely gift -- three days later, with a slip and a knock to his head, our world changed, and my special talks with Dad would happen no
more.
Our last one, from an airport of all places, still
comforts me, especially when I'm missing him the most. I plan to wrap
myself in the memory of it and of him for the next ten hours, as I come to terms with the reality of
losing Dad and of my life without him....all over again, just one year later.
Dad, I wish you were here. xoxox
