Today, we lay my dad to rest. It’s a weird feeling because I always knew this day would come, and even though I had a little time to prepare, it still feels too soon. Yesterday, I thought I was at peace with it, but the weight of it bore down on me all night like the scorching heat of an Oasis Springs summer. I tossed and turned, riddled with anxiety and restlessness. Good thing Sophia is such a deep sleeper, otherwise we’d both be awake before the sun. Instead of continuing to fight it, I give up and sit on the edge with my head cradled in my hands. The sun has yet to rise, and I want to rest and gather strength for the day ahead, but sleep eludes me like a fleeting dream.
There isn’t much to do before dawn that doesn’t wake up Sophia, so I check on Desi. She’s wide awake again. Perhaps we have another early riser on our hands. I sway back and forth as if trying to soothe her, but she is perfectly fine. It is I who needs the comfort, not her.
My chest tightens as the words “your dad is gone” echo in my head. Pressure builds behind my eyes, but I can’t let it out yet. I don’t want to scare my baby, so I pull her even closer, hoping concentrating on her will make it stop. She’s innocent and doesn’t need to be burdened with the complexities of grief and loss. All she needs right now is our love and presence in her life. That’s what my dad gave me. His strength and love is what made me the man standing here holding this beautiful angel. A smile tugs at my lips with that reminder, easing the pressure in my chest and eyes. He was my rock and guiding light. If I keep those positive memories in mind, maybe I’ll make it through until the final farewell.
