Often though, I will wonder if I really do remember something or it is because we've talked about it or because I've seen pictures that I do remember. Then, there are times where I wish I could forget some things. Doesn't seem to work like that...
Tomorrow will be fourteen years already that my father passed away. When I close my eyes and think of him I still see his face the last time I saw him alive, when I held his face in my hands, told him I loved him and that he didn't have to do it. The look in his eyes, the pain and sadness emanating from them was so great, he was a mess and it showed. My next flash of his face was at the morgue, he looked so, but oh, so sad. My poor father. I often force myself to remember a picture of him taken a few years before his death, where he smiled and looked happy. That is how I want to remember my dad.
Last week, while chatting with Hubby I realized that despite my best effort I was losing touch with my father's voice... I can't really remember what he sounded like. I recall what and how he would say certain things, but the sound of his voice is fading away. I'm not from a generation when people did video much, we didn't even do home movies. My folks took pictures, lots of them. I have the albums to prove it. I have no recording of his voice. I miss hearing him calling me "ma grande". That is one thing that today's kids should cherish, having videos recorder/recordings readily available to them. You have a (recent) cell phone you can create memories to last you a lifetime. Makes me think of those messages we've heard after 9-11 that had been left by the victims before their deaths... as much as it is sad it is also a source of comfort for those you did get them. I've often wished my dad would have called me before he walked to the shed. He didn't. I guess he needed all his strength to do what he was about to... He didn't leave a note either - he didn't know how to. He left quietly.
Despite the years, it still hurts. The pain isn't as sharp as it was once, but it is still there...
2 comments:
I have no words that can comfort but to say that I feel what you feel. I remember the feeling of my father's voice in my mind, but when I try to grasp the actuality of it it's like trying to grip a slippery bar of soap. I hope someday my little girl will appreciate the hundreds of hours of audio she'll have once I am gone. Big hugs, mon ami.
I am so sorry. I know it must be tough not being able to remember your father's voice. But I think it is natural that we begin to let some memories go as new happy ones come into our lives.
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