Summary

The website content is a poignant tribute to the author's father who passed away, reflecting on his vibrant personality, the impact of his death, and the continuation of their bond beyond physical existence.

Abstract

The author pays homage to their late father through a heartfelt message, recounting his last moments and the profound impact of his passing. The father, described as a man with an exuberant personality and a deep love for words, fought multiple organ failure until his final breath. The author grapples with the pain of loss and the struggle to find the right words to honor their father, emphasizing the enduring nature of their relationship despite his physical absence. The piece serves as a reminder of life's fragility and the importance of cherishing loved ones, as the author feels the presence of their father in a new, intangible form.

Opinions

The author views death as an inconvenient truth that does not adhere to our schedules or desires.
They acknowledge their father's stubbornness and his intense capacity for emotion, which was evident in both his love and dislikes.
Writing is the author's coping mechanism, providing a space to mourn and understand the loss of their father.
The author reflects on the complexity of verb tenses when referring to a deceased loved one, highlighting the difficulty in reconciling past and present.
There is a belief that the relationship with a loved one continues after death, albeit in a different form.
The author emphasizes the importance of reaching out to loved ones, as life is precious and fleeting.
The father is remembered for his love of humor and his newfound ability to listen without interruption, suggesting a peaceful presence after his passing.

DEDICATION

You Died Today

A message of love to my Dad

My Dad as a young man. (Photo by author)

You took your last breath this morning as the sun crested above a teary sky a plump raindrop falling from eyes sealed in twilight sleep

Love, you mouthed your tongue tapping the roof of your mouth — a benediction, a hug of a word, a promise, a hope threaded with that last pregnant tear

Your spirit, no longer contained by its mortal coil, is now the space between the silence, the air in your children’s lungs, the kindness in everyone you touched

After almost a full week in the ICU, my father left this Earth today. A lover of words, I am left searching for the right ones which evade me at ever turn.

Death is not convenient.

Birth and death do not care about convenience. Rarely does it offer us a coveted time.

My father had a personality bigger than life. He was a child in a man’s body. He felt everything. Subtlety was neither his forte or in his vocabulary. When he loved someone or something, it was with all his might; when he didn’t like something or someone…well, it was best to grab a pair of earplugs.

Writing has always been my way to understand things — or at least, attempt to. I’m writing now with tears unshed yet brimming; my heart open like a gutted fish.

Writing is where I find the space to mourn my father.

My father was STUBBORN, so it’s no surprise that he fought to stay. Multiple organ failure, but damn it if he was going to be told when to leave the Earth School. I can hear him laughing now as I write these words. He was a lover of humor.

Was. Is. Past tense. Present tense. Present perfect. Future tense…never.

What the fuck is the verb tense for a loved one who dies?

My father is still with me. I can feel him now as I write. We go on. A friend called me tonight and said something profound that I needed to hear:

When a loved one dies, the relationship doesn’t end, only the form it took does.

I can feel my father’s powerful presence now. Only now, he’s listening and not interrupting. On Earth, Dad possessed a greater affinity for talking than listening.

Before my father passed this morning, he mouthed the word LOVE and one significant tear dripped from an eye.

And then he was gone.

All week in the ICU, Dad had slept with his mouth ajar. But before he passed, he closed and opened his mouth to say the word love.

A Call to Action

Life comes with a healthy amount of denial. We need it to survive the reality:

None of us is getting out of here alive.

Take the time to reach out to your loved ones — even the ones who get on your nerves sometimes. No one knows their expiration date.

Jason Provencio my Dad LOVED reading your articles. When I said we wrote each other on here, he said: “Wow. Really? That’s so cool. I love that guy. He’s such a mensch.” He thought the world of both your character and writing.

And now, the brimming tears are flowing.

I love you, Dad.