16 Years

In the 16 years since my Dad's death, I have actually largely felt peace and calm. The last year of his life ended up being an unexpected runway for closeness and closure for my Dad and me, and that is something for which I am enormously grateful.

This year, though, I feel weepy. The most obvious explanation would be that 16 years is a parenting milestone I am deeply feeling. It's a bridge to a new phase of development and independence; it's a natural point at which to reflect on the many things I have not been able to share with my Dad.

Another explanation is that this is just where I am at right this moment. The last few weeks have been tumultuous and frustrating and difficult in one aspect of my life. In the face of tumult and difficulty my Dad grew explosive; I subsequently trained myself to go quiet and inward. But what I did learn from my Dad is that in the face of difficulty you have to get your shit together (or at least some of your shit) and keep going.

At memorial junctures there is a tendency to focus on the positive and sweep the hard, painful shit under the rug. But for me, reflecting on the hard shit along with the happy moments is how I remember that it is possible to come out the other side.

I love you and miss you, Dad. The hard shit was truly next level, but I'm grateful that it helped me learn to keep going.