MANX MNEWS: Heavenly Birthday

88 years, 6 months, 11 days.

By all measures, this would be considered a long life.

Not ever long enough, for the loved ones left behind.

Death is hardest on the living.

***

It has only been a little over 5 months since that dark day

in July.
This world doesn't stop turning.
It never missed a beat.

It barely took notice that

the best man, the finest man,
I have ever known

left this earth peacefully at home,
on his own terms,
just as he would have wished.

***

He was larger than life to me.
Especially as a child.
He stood 6'4" and had the
largest hands I'd seen.
I am reminded of a story of him
from his teenage years.
He worked on a farm in rural Texas,
and there was this wayward cow.
That cow wouldn't move.
So he tired of trying to move it
and took all of his frustrations out on
it by hitting it with his fist on the head.
Knocked the cow out.
He was petrified that he had killed it.
Because well when you're poor
a cow is a very expensive commodity.
But, the cow got up and apparently
moved along.

***

He truly was a kind, generous man.
He never met a stranger.
He just had a big personality,
and most everyone truly liked him.
He loved his wife and his kids.
Completely.
He was devoted to us.
He protected us well.
In later years,
when nearly all was taken from him,
he was the most compassionate
of people.
I miss him.
Just miss him.

***

I keep waiting for you to come back.

It's something many grieving say.

It's like your on an extended trip and any moment now

you'll come barreling through the door.

But, of course you won't.

***

You're gone.

Gone.

Just gone.

There is no trace of you left here

on this earth.

There is only memories in my mind.

Pictures,

Old 60's videos.

Phone messages.

Your carrier hat,
a rattler from your babyhood,

your pocket knife, glasses,
some other odds and ends.

Memories.

You're gone.

Gone.

Just gone.

***

In my lifetime I'll never be able to talk to you again.

I want to pick up the phone and call you.

I want to hear your voice call me babe again.

I want to know about all the things

you never discussed like growing up without your Dad.

Because now, I know exactly how that feels.

***

I still "talk" to you everyday.

I know you listen,
if you can.

I believe you can.

So that can give me some comfort.
Sometimes.

***

I've learned many things since you've been

gone, and even though
our conversations have only been

one sided I think you understand.

***

I was acutely aware that time was running out.

But, like everyone else, until it happens

you always believe you have more.
Time.

***

We didn't.

***
We had a conversation this past
May or June, where you
told me how tired you were
and how ready you were to meet your
Heavenly Father.
I started crying.
I told you I just couldn't bear to
hear it. The sudden kindness and
empathy you gave to me,
and the promise to never bring it up again.
You didn't have to tell me,
although in hindsight I am glad you
did.
I knew already Daddy.
I did know.
I did understand.
But, I know you understood too
that the little girl inside of me
didn't want to turn loose of
the big hand of the man
she dearly loved the most.