Letter to Dad

The U.S. Postal Service Angel with Lute stamp,
issued in October 2010.

Dear Dad,


I can't really open this letter with How are you? because I don't know if

• you can read letters
• you can answer them
• how one "feels" takes on a different meaning up there.

I just realized that never in our relationship did you and I exchange letters. Greeting cards, yes--you always sent them for Valentine's Day, Saint Patrick's and Christmas. And I certainly told you how much I loved you in lots of cards--for holidays and Father's Days. But when I was away at college, it was Mommy I had a correspondence with.

I miss you so much. It is very hard. So does Sissy, and Will, too. I'm sure you know that Will tracked down John when you died--at his apartment in the city. Will said he is not doing well. I'm sure you know that, too. When things settle down, Sissy and I will see what we can do to meet John and talk to him.

I guess you can see that our Figgy is doing alright. She is coming around the bend. She is back to her old self more and more. It is so good to see her smile and wry sense of humor again. Please watch over her--whether you do that as a butterfly or a bunny. She loves both, and I know you love bunnies, too. There's been a fat one in our back garden this week, nibbling at our flowers, and I said to Figgy, Look, that's Grandpa. I am crying right now, because it makes me so sad to realize, once again, that I can't pick up the phone and talk to you, or drop in to see you. That fact hits hard, again and again. Kind of like a door slamming. I don't like that. It's jarring and final.

Figgy loves nature so much. H. and I do, too, but I'm sure your love of nature had a big influence on her. Remember when you buried the baby bird at Cape Cod with her when she was a little girl?

H. and I are working hard, on our work and our house. We finally put the curtains and blinds up--the painters had taken all the hardware down and it took us this long to get our act together. We didn't know how to put the hardware up, but H. figured it out.

Sug is doing well. She loved you so much. She is curled up right next to me on a pillow now in the breakfast nook. I don't think she will ever have a friend like you that she was so excited to see. She could barely contain herself once we parked the car at Van Dyk and made our way up to your room.

Well, Dad, tears are streaming down my cheeks. I don't like this road, I don't like it at all. I know you were almost 88, so that was a nice long life. But I feel so bad that you suffered in the end, and mostly, I just don't like life without you. 

I've thought of questions I wish I had asked you, such as:

• What did your Catholic faith mean to you? What did it mean to Mommy? How did you feel about going to Mass?
• Who taught you how to do all those things you did around the house--I think Uncle Aldo? I know you've said he knew how to fix everything.
• What was your favorite holiday?

Well, I better sign off. I still have to do a pile of dishes before bed. I love you and miss you.

Love always,

Alice

TCOY

1. Organic chicken sausage for protein start to day [at almost noon].
2. Mass--time to contemplate quietly.
3. Read and took long nap because have terrible cold.
4. Walked Sug to Iris Gardens and back down to Norwood and back up the hill [30 minutes].
5. Stared down Lake Champlain Chocolates peanut butter Easter eggs at Kings--once again.