Father’s Day is June 17th this year. It has been five years since my father’s death.
He died on the 22nd day of the 6th month of the year. I was born on the 26th day of the 2nd month of the year.
This number connection haunts me a little bit. Every time I see the number 6 and two 2’s, I think of him.
He was exceptional at math, and I never was.
We were not very close. I loved him and he loved me, though I never felt like I lived up to his expectations. I felt like I was always a little too slow for him.
He died a slow death.
A couple of weeks before his death I finally got the courage to confront him with my feelings.
By this time, he could no longer reply.
When I bent down to kiss him that day he struggled with all his will to kiss my cheek in return. I couldn’t remember the last time he had done that.
I knew in that instant my words had sunk in, and he wanted me to know that he loved me.
Now, I’m left wondering whether he chose to die on a day that would keep us connected.
movingforwardslowly 