During my Dad’s last few days in the hospital this past May, he was breathing but taking his last breaths. Listening but unable to respond. In one of our last one-sided conversations with him, my mom told him she wanted to smell gardenias when he was around (and she does) and I said I wanted to see a butterfly. Since his death I’ve seen butterflies in places, and at times, that I’ve never seen them before: when I clean his car (he loved his car!!) and today, on Father’s Day, while walking around Magic Island, a cherished beach park that my parents would take my sister and me to when we were kids.
Will not having Dad around ever start to hurt less? I doubt it. But today, I’m sitting here in the sunshine. Laying out on a mat in the sand near the ocean. Smelling ono meat being grilled. Listening to kids and family’s play and make memories. And feeling grateful to have 40 years with my dad who did everything in his power to make sure I was healthy, happy and safe. I miss you Dad! Happy Father’s Day!