Monday, June 29, 2009

Dear Dad, week six

Dear Dad,

It's been just over six weeks since you walked out of the house and quietly but firmly closed the door on your life with us forever.

It's been a month since your memorial service.

In some ways it feels like much, much longer, because so much has happened and we've worked so hard in the intervening time. But in others, it's just as fresh as if you left yesterday.

I try very hard not to get into the "what-ifs" and "if onlys" and "I should'ves" - because I understand how futile they are. But I don't always succeed, and in my imagination, that morning goes differently. Or you are found in time. And you're still here with us.

Recent pictures are hard, because I look at Christmas and think, you weren't doing your best, but you were OK. Or OK enough to stay, anyway. And I wonder where the line was.

But I love this photo above. I love the life and the energy and the fun in it.

We scanned it for your slide show. I remember you playing the piano in Dacca. You played all the time when we were younger. I can't even remember the last time I heard you play, actually.

The other night I dreamt that you were still alive, and it was so very real. But then I noticed that I had a completely flat stomach, and that's what tipped me off that it was a dream. Another night, Nick and I were staying over with mom, and I woke up smelling your cologne, as if you'd just passed through the room.

The dreams I get. The smell, that I really don't understand.

You left things extremely well organized - which you always knew - and that's been incredibly helpful. Even so, there's an astounding amount of administrative stuff to deal with.

Nick has been spectacular at dealing with all of the terrible details - and was from minute one. We all knew how amazing he was, and I know it made you feel better knowing we were in good hands. You can't begin to imagine how great he's been.

For so many of these things, it's so helpful that he's a lawyer, but even more so, that he's so incredibly detail-oriented.

I have to say, I think you were right - he might actually be more anal than you. Practically unimaginable, but possibly true.

I am huge now, and so is the boy - much bigger than when you saw us last. When he moves, my whole stomach shifts. It's pretty crazy; you'd get a kick out of it.

We all miss you terribly, and wish you were still with us.




  1. Oh Lisa, the photo is beautiful. And your words are lovely and touching. It seems like longer than 6 weeks. I'm not surprised but am so glad to hear Nick has been there every step of the way and immensely helpful. LG readers are always here when you want to share stories about your Dad. Big hug to you.

  2. Aww Lisa, what a beautiful letter. I'm glad Nick has been a source of strength for you.

  3. I read often, but rarely comment. But I felt compelled after this letter. It's beautiful and honest. Thank you for sharing it.

  4. Love the picture -- adorable.

    The letter, brought tears to my eyes.


  5. totally tearing up. beautiful. (((hugs)))

  6. What a beautiful letter! Love to you!

  7. Oh Lisa. Big hugs.

  8. I'm so glad you have Nick to help you get though this. He sounds like such a great guy not just for you, but for your family as a whole. Big hugs to all of you.

  9. HKW - Thank you, lovely Heather. I appreciate it.

    Yankee - Thank you. If we hadn't already known he was extraordinary, we'd know it now.

    Liebchen - Thank you so much. Thank you for reading.

    Beach Bum - I've been crying all day. It's one of those days.

    Hillary - Thank you.

    Dagny - Hugs back, my friend.

    mrsmac - Thank you so much. Hugs to you.

    Jules - Thank you so much! I appreciate it.

    A.S. - Thank you. Hugs to you too.

    VVK - Hugs, big hugs, my friend.

    Luna - Thank you. He is, he really is. What are you doing reading?? STILL no baby? Big hugs to you, too.

  10. I'm so sorry. Beautifully written letter.

  11. Beautiful and touching letter Lisa. Thank you for sharing it. How wonderful Nic sounds. Hugs, Lori Bouzane

  12. wonderful picture, and what a lovely letter.

  13. Lovely letter, Lisa. Thank you for sharing it. Big hugs to you!

  14. Oh my gosh, I forgot about writing these letters myself. Mine just went into a drawer. There's something much nicer about launching it into the ether. Pretty sure they have wifi where they are.

  15. Lisa- I'm actually at the hospital now, in my 12th hour of labor (with an epidural, thank God). Progress is slow, and I'm predicting c section... I'll let you know!

  16. I am so sorry about your loss. My heart aches for you. Please consider this a hug.

  17. Not only is he glad to know you are in such good hands, I know he also is loving every word of this letter, wherever he is. xo

  18. That's a wonderful letter. Smelling his cologne? There's a spiritualist theory of cords that connect us to people. I think that some people who believe in the cord idea will say that the cords that connect us in life don't always break after death, especially with parents.

  19. Gorgeous. I'm thinking about you all the time.


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