I.

CAN'T.

BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

dad...

Is pain selfish? Am I selfish for feeling it the way I do?

Why do you keep stabbing me?

I can barely get through a telephone conversation with you. I hold my breath and say "uh huh..uh huh" pretending to hear you, just focusing on memorizing your voice, not really able to follow your ramblings... and then it comes, I hear it coming. You get onto a tangent about something and it comes around to me, and in your rambling suddenly I am the enemy, and you find something, some way, to say something that hurts me so deeply that it's my heart that has cancer.

WHY?

While tears fall...

I often wonder as I look out on the ocean
Does it know its depth?
Your home is cradled in the largest of hands,
Part of your heart lives in that ocean,
Part of my heart lives there with you.
I stand face to face with pain and I weigh it,
And it weighs me.
And we decide together like face to face fighters about to match
Who will swing first, who will duck, and who will fall.
And as the eagles sing
Something about a ‘new kid in town’
And that deep unknowing ocean saves your heart
I often wonder as I look in on pain
Does it know its depth?
Your home will be cradled in the largest of hands.
I will know all is not lost
Because I will be there watching you soar between horizons
And I will stand face to face with pain and weigh it
And it will weigh me
Like a two lovers poised heart to heart to dance.
And the eagles will still sing
And the boat will still rock
And part of my heart will still live with you.

(Sarah - 2009)

Last Xmas Card

I begged for another holiday with you. I may not have "begged" you, I don't think begging would work anyhow, but it's what I wanted so badly. I begged for more time for you, time to buy presents for you and give you pointless cards and share meaningful sentiments, to wear labels of our deepest feelings.
It makes me realize just how few we've had, in my memory anyhow.

• The one where we shared the innocent joy of setting up a race car track.
• The one where you came on Christmas eve and surprised us; you came all the way from the Yukon overnight on a bus and took mom shopping at Toys R Us and bought everything in sight. You even bought things for Dani.
• The one where you came to stay with me in my apartment while I was in college. I made you a stocking; you loved my cooking, and napped happily on my sofa.

There has to be more than that. Is there? I strain to remember them, Dad.
If there is one missing, I pray that one day while I sit watching snow fall, my own wrinkles appearing deeper and more defined, and I look back on years.. I dream that then, a single snowflake of a memory will fall silently down and land on my skin and as it melts into me I will be given the gift of a lost holiday with you.

Dad, what if Christmas was as small as a single decoration? What if the entire holiday could be hung on a tree? Somehow, I see the world with your eyes now, and truthfully, that simple Christmas living inside of one tiny bit of flock, seems so perfect... so serene... so ideal. What is this holiday Dad? What has it meant to you? What memories do you cherish? Are they the same as mine?

I bought your card today. I used to pour over the prose in each one, looking for one that said just the pefect thing. It seemed so important then. 'Oh! I have to get Dad's card, I can't forget.'
It's a piece of colorful paper, Dad.
And today when I bought it, I scanned the words and maybe one line or two was true.. the rest seemed almost... obligation. Buy a card, write a scentence, sign it with x's and o's and seal it with a lick. Mail it and know that the person reading it will know how much you care. 'When you care enough to send the very best.' Ha!
I`m sorry Hallmark but have you heard my dad is dieing? Do you make a `Last Christmas` card? That one single action of buying a card seems so pointless now. Something I used to put so much importance into, now, I could barely read them. They were just words, paper, glue, glitter.

More like: `Hallmark, when you dont think the gift you bought is quite enough to prove your love.`

I love you Daddy, I always will. And Christmas IS only a decoration, Dad. Thank you for the gems you`ve given me every December 25th. The safety and satisfaction of knowing that out in the world somewhere there was My Dad: Christmas Hero.
I owe you my life. And when everyone wakes to Xboxes and 14 karat gold, I`ll watch the snow fall and wait for my gifts from you Dad, the perfect, unique, quickly melting droplets of days gone by.