The word melancholy came into my mind this morning that seemed to explain how I’m feeling. When I looked up the definition to make sure it fit, the last definition does: a pensive mood. That’s how I feel, pensive. I’ve been pondering lately on what’s happening to this world, to humanity. I’ve mulled on both the current and the past, and then, with Senator John McCain’s passing all my feelings coalesced into this feeling of pensiveness.
I can’t say I know all that much about Mr.McCain, but he always struck me as not being a follower, rather, someone who would always speak his mind, a trait seldom seen lately, especially in politics. I knew he didn’t have long to live, but his passing sparked something deep inside me yesterday. The sadness of his passing, an era coming to an end, combined with my thinking of dad lately, brought me to this pensive, reflective mood today.
Lately, I’ve thought of how dad never faltered, or at least, seldom let me see him falter or be vulnerable. One of the few times I saw a glimpse of dad’s vulnerability was after my son passed and mom and dad came for the service, and the next morning you could tell by dad’s face he’d shed tears. Of all the sorrow he’d witnessed being a physician, he’d always remained stalwart; silent, perhaps pensive at times, but always controlled and there to care for others who needed him to be strong, except with my son, his grandson, that loss had brought him to tears. Tears shed in private and you’d have had to know dad well – to know they’d been shed.
I’ve said before that I think dad hung on longer than he wanted too, to make sure I was going to be okay after I got sick, but I still wasn’t ready for his passing, who is. Dad and I had a connection I can’t explain; the day he passed I knew I needed to go see dad, I knew it was time. When I arrived dad had just passed and mom was stunned to see me standing there and that I knew it was time when she didn’t.
Dad was my anchor, he always had my back, even the many times I didn’t deserve it. One time I did deserve his having my back he took on the school when they suspended me based on a rumor, he explained to them the error of their ways in no uncertain terms, then explained to them the dangers of listening to busy-bodies and how that never ended well. Then they tried to bring up other things they’d ‘heard’, to which he said I wasn’t suspended for (in today’s language) whataboutisms, they finally acquiesced, and we walked out with me returning to school the next day. I have to say for a man of few words, he said many words that day in his deep quiet voice, and each word made it clear they had no alternative other than to apologise and move on.
I miss dad, I miss being in his stillness, I miss being accepted for me just as I was/am..