The Beginning of the End

When I was home last week for my brother's wedding it was also to see my dad for the last time before he dies in a few months. So in between a pedicure with Ms. Photogenic and setting up for the rehearsal dinner I went shopping for funeral clothes. I did it because I figured that by the time the Red Cross verifies his death and contacts my command and I manage to get off Castro’s island and buy a ticket to Minneapolis from Florida I won't have time to shop. It was an odd trip. I chose a tailored but stylish knee length skirt, a high-necked sweater, and a pair of conservative but flattering shoes (I really wanted a particular pair of cheetah print flats but I thought some of the relatives might think they were too celebratory so I went with a pair of black wedges). As I was shopping I was thinking about the funeral, the eulogy, and the time that would be allotted for people to speak at the front of the room. I kept mentally searching for something positive to say about my dad. Nothing came to mind.

The night before I left, the last night I would see him alive, I wanted him to come upstairs to say goodbye to me. I wanted him to initiate contact. I wanted him to treat me like his child. So I waited until it was very late, realized he wasn't going to come up, and made the trip down to say goodbye. He boxed me in at the stairwell and I stopped on the last step. He’s tall. We were standing eye to eye.

I wanted to make sure I said goodnight.

This is probably the last time you're going to see me.

I know. That's why I came down.

Well, you take care.

I asked him a few questions to try and get him to talk and he answered them and stared at me. And he said again,

Well, you take care.

You too.

Then he walked away.


He got up early the next morning to see me off but just sat on the couch. He never got up, no hug, nothing. Just another, You take care.

I wasn't thinking and said, I'll see you later.

He responded, No, you won't.

And that was the end. No I love you or You'll always be my daughter. I could have even gone for a short graduation speech: I'm proud of you. Good luck with everything in the future. But instead it was just, Take care of yourself.

I’m thinking that unconditional love is a hoax.

I’ll bandage the wound quickly; I’m going with the theory that he feels it’s too late to fix the relationship and that if it can’t be fixed, and I don’t think it could, it’s nothing but a waste of his energy to try.

But, even so, I still think you should tell a girl you're proud of her.