My dad has began to uncover that his father is getting older, he has began to the stories in his lines, to notice the notches in his back, and life that one flickered with jubliance slowly begin to burn out. My father has begun to fear death and old age not for his sack but for his father’s. For years this carried on until I began to notice it within my own father.
My dad has begun to tell me stories about things I have never known of before, he’s begun to tell me secrets that he would’ve kept from me and tell me situations that he once believed would break me. And for years, since I was ten I had always known that death would one day claim him. That like my grandfather, my dad will too. One day grow old and slowly burn out. I began to think of ways I could bring life to them.
Maybe if I did good on a test, or if I drew like him, or sung for him. That he would stay a little longer, breath a little deeper, be here with me for another year. I believed that maybe if I could just be a good girl, if I followed all of his rules that he would live on in me.
But like most things I came to find out, that the harder you grip on to it. The faster it will disappear from your grasp.
It wasn’t until recently that I heard the words, “Go on be the best Christine you can be” from my father that I discovered that the best way to remember my father was through being myself. My father has taught me how to live in this world, but he had never taught me how to be him. My father never put limitations on me because of his fears and thoughts. But he has always told me to do what I dreamed and desired to do. That if God says it. Do it. Never let anyone, nobody, even him get in my way of my purpose in life.
My father is getting old, but I do not fear death will take him away from me. Cause I have a piece of my father inside me. The freedom and will to become who I am is because of him.