“Bye, Dad…”

I was standing by his left foot, staring at the body that resembled my Father, thinking to myself, “This isn’t him. This man laying before me is not my Father. My Father is full of life, strength, and this motionless thing couldn’t possibly be him.

Yet, as I placed my hand on him, the skin felt the same… only colder… No one had the same skin texture as my Father, after years of interaction, I can instantly recognize him, and to my surprise, there he lay… My Father… Silent and still…

Before I left the hospital, I grabbed his hand, it felt like the same thick, roughened hands my Father always had, yet… as I squeezed it, they felt… empty.

As I turn, I whisper to him, “Bye, Dad…”

I have never known such pain and sorrow until that day… It is something I do not wish upon anyone… To lose someone who was so vital in ones life…

It’s so strange not having him here, sometimes I almost expect him to call me “Taras” or hit my upside my head, at any moment… But he won’t.

Death has always fascinated me, due to it’s ties with my Mexican heritage, which goes rather deeply, allowing me to have a unique perspective of it. And yet, now I know the true nature of Death, and all that is entailed with it.

My mind has grown from a severe experience, and I can honestly speak with those who have lost, which I will use when I am faced with those times when I cannot save someone. They will look to me for answers and reasons, explanations and closures, and I will look at them, right in their eyes and speak the truth…

In honor of my Father who would want me to use everything I’ve learned from him to become a better man. This is my dark tool, an experience I can not forget, because I owe it to him to use it to help others.

I know my dad had his flaws, but I still loved him. He was the definition of what it took to be an actual Man in this modern world. He was old-fashioned, moral, and he knew his priorities, and I can only hope that when I see him again, he’ll smile…

… Oh… That reminds me…

A little over a week before his accident, I got this strange feeling to ask my Father something… I don’t know why, but I had this urge to ask him if he was proud of me. I should have acted on it, but I ignored it, saying excuses like, “There wasn’t a good time to ask.” or “Wouldn’t it be weird to just ask him out of the blue like that?” And now, oh… how I wished I had asked him, and I can reason and throw logic and memories at this question, coming to the conclusion that he would say ‘Yes’… But that’s all I get, ‘he would have.’ That isn’t anything solid, it isn’t a memory I can recall whenever I’m feeling down, the simple truth is, the question remains unanswered…

I’m a man who has always tried to live without regret, and now here I am with one that shall forever bore into my mind, my consciousness.

Are you proud of me, Dad? Despite my failures and disappointments, can you still be glad to say that I’m your son? Can you still see hope in my eyes, and a future as a good man?… Am I worthy of your love and attention?…

How strange… My eyes are swelling, but my body won’t let them fall…

Death represents a lot of things, but never the end of all things.

Death is another part of Life, the closing of a chapter in one’s Life, the ashes of the Phoenix, the conclusion where nothing else can be added. But what is often overlooked is that Death goes hand-in-hand with Life, Life made anew after Death.

When one chapter is closed, another is opened, and another, and another, until the end of the book has  been reached.

The ashes of the Phoenix are blown away by the wind beneath the wings of the new Phoenix, giving him flight with a renewed form.

The conclusion is merely the point when one stops thinking, it is not the point when everything stops altogether.

With my Father’s passing, I will always cherish the time we had, I will remember all of the little things in Life, Heh, I will make observations of the man and learn even more than conversation could ever provide.

But most of all, with the passing of my Father, I’m given a chance to prove myself. To earn the title of ‘My Father’s Son’, to truly learn and understand all of the experiences I’ve had with him, and to utilize them in order to help this world, to realize the hard way, what is most important in life, and what is worth fighting for, what’s worth dying for, to learn how Life truly goes on, and, heh, what it truly means to die for something.

And so, summer has come and passed, and September has ended. I will now do as my Father did: What is needed to be done.


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