It sucks that my father is a memory now. I wish I had more pictures of him. Of us together. I’m fortunate to have kept two of his voicemails, so I will never forget his voice.
How I miss those days where I would sit in his living room talking to him about life or whatever subject that came up. From Yankees, to my company, to old movies, to stories about the family, anything. My relationship with that man was one of a kind. I never had an argument with him. We just really understood each other well. I regret that I didn’t spend more time with him in his retirement years. I wanted to take him out one day and shoot pool with him. Never had the chance too.
I know he was proud of me. I wonder if he is still proud of me right now even though I married a woman who showed her true colors and has no respect for my family. How I allowed her to disrespect my mother and bring trauma to us during this difficult time during my father’s hospitalization and even after his death.
Anyway I want to remember the good times with my dad. I wish I can still walk with him on the street just talking. What I would give to have that again. Now I’m alone and having to pick up the pieces he left behind. I am his legacy. I plan on writing everything I remembered about him as best as I can so I never forget.