a birthday in the rain
I woke up at 12:02 am to the sound of our girl needing some sustenance and mama. “We’re getting this party started early,” I thought, as I scooped her out of her crib & nestled her little body against mine, realizing how ferociously the rain was pouring down outside. To the sound of the water plummeting, my tears began to flow. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Family gatherings. They’re all viewed through a different lens now; one of memories and longing, one of retracing the playing out of how his once-strong body diminished before my tired eyes. Life is two stages: one before and one after the loss of my dad. I’m taken back to only months ago while sitting by his bedside - in the very spot he took his final breath - studying the intricacies of his elbows, and wondering to myself how many times those elbows must have extended and bent in his lifetime. Fixing cars, sitting behind a steering wheel, wiping up after children, rubbing backs, cheering on sporting eve...