As I approach the beginning of the last year of my 4th decade, I can’t help but think back to 10 years ago. 10 years ago?! How did that happen?
I had the honor of spending the beginning of the last year of my 30th decade with my father. It would be the last birthday I ever get to celebrate with him. And I knew it. I remember the poignancy. Happy that here I was with him and the rest of my family (mother, siblings, grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins), but keenly aware that this was going to be it. Happy to have him there to hug and share cake with. But very much horrified that there would be no more shared BDs. It was a magical moment really. A moment when you *really* appreciate and focus on the now. I consciously made myself imprint the scenario in my brain, so it would be with me, always. And, it is. Though the pictures in my mind and in print are of my dad hooked up to oxygen and a PICC line and quite yellow (bile build up), the physical sensation of having him near me and hugging him make the rest disappear. THAT is what I physically feel when I think back on it. The feel of his cheek on mine, the feel of the skin on his hand. His smell. Those are the things I try to hold on to. As this last year of my 40th decade begins, I think of you, Abba. I can feel you here with me, I can feel your skin, I can smell your smell. I miss you.
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