As the car moved toward the funeral home, a heavy somberness filled the interior. The middle-aged woman in the backseat sat quietly, clutching her bag as if a shield for her heart. Her mind replayed the few memories she had of her Father.
Her heart wandered through; caressing memories that she never actually experienced; longing for a Father she had never known. The distant sense of loss weighed heavily, and conflicting emotions fluttered, senseless in her mind. Sadness fought with regret and indifference fought with anger. Overall a deep longing opened within her…for something she could never have.
The absence of her Father had left a void in her life, an inky gap that she is unable to fill. So many unanswered questions; so many half-baked dreams. The fires of anger are still able to ignite, even through the futility. She had run out of time. The same flames quickly give way to the heaviness, the flames mournful, not for what she had actually lost…but what she never had.
Like a bee dropping pollen, her Father instigated her very existence. Sobering.
When the car finally arrived she tiptoed into the space, afraid to see the family she felt had rejected her. While his family members surrounded her, she still felt like an outsider; a stranger at her own Father’s funeral.
There was a lovingly created slide show on the screen. She casually observed the faces of those who had known and loved him. A picture of him with his other daughter at her graduation, a picture of him with his other daughter at her wedding. A picture of him, with his other daughter, who was really his only daughter.
She, too, had graduated. Had gotten married. A pang resentment struck her. Why wasn’t he a part of her memories? Wasn’t she worth it? Old fears and wounds were rubbed and ressurected.
She left the service feeling further from him than she ever had before. Before, there was a chance that she could get to know him. Now that chance had slipped away. The woman calls upon the compassion and forgiveness she had granted to her Father before his unexpected death. She had communicated with him through–her form of open communication. She felt like she had come to understand what kept him from being her Father.
There was an end to the rift, now. Not the end that either of them had hoped for, but an end.
This daughter feels a visceral connection to her Father. A connection that was broken, but would always remain. Only when she is able to clearly see him, as the flawed human that he was, can she release her weight of regret. Only when she is able to remember that, she too is a flawed human, can she forgive him for abandoning her.
After he was gone from the Earth, she is able to finally find closure and a sense of peace. The death of a Father changes a daughter; a bittersweet reminder that time runs out for all of us.
How can a daughter honor a Father? By cherishing her very life. By enjoying the moments of joy and embracing the love in her life. While she couldn’t quite call her feelings for her Father “love” she also wouldn’t term it “not love.”
What is a daughter? This daughter still doesn’t know the answer. But she gets to decide on that definition and that’s enough.