It was another reminder, not that I needed one to remember him, I think about him everyday. But this reminder called for the celebration of his life.
The fact that he was gone wasn’t something worth celebrating, it was painful and the first time I’d ever felt sorrow. I’d had loss before, plenty of it, depression hitting the core kind of it, but nothing like this loss. It stayed and was felt. Just felt it, gut-wrenching sorrow that sat with me. And even though this sorrow stays with me, in that piece of my heart, settling in that far right corner, I still find happiness in talking about him, in celebrating his life.
I think about him everyday, about his crisp clean white shirts he wore to work, his musky aftershave that lingered every morning long after he’d gone, his briefcase sitting against the hallway, his well-loved dark gray Nissan pickup truck that was on its last wheels, his smile when I’d tell a joke, his love for Haagen Dazs ice cream bars, the ones with the almonds, his passion for movies and HBO shows, his interest in Clint Eastwood, Robert DeNiro, and Al Pacino movies, his messy organization skills where he knew where everything was in that tornado of paper, and his marathon way of tying his shoes in the morning the kind of way that only a Dad would embark upon.
I think about that, but these past two days I’ve been even more present about his life, trying to celebrate it and keep that spiritual connection during Dia de Los Muertos.
The fact that he’s passed away isn’t something that’s easy, it’s never been easy. It’s just a wound I’ve learned to carry, that’s become part of me, but when I think of the adventures we’ve had … that’s when I celebrate the fact that I knew him, that he was part of my life, that part of the way I define myself is by saying … yeah … I’m Julio’s Daughter. That’s me, with all the pitfalls and flaws of manic depression and a dysfunctional childhood that came from that … yeah that’s me.
I celebrate it.
I celebrate his heart, because he had a big one, and I try to pass it on to my son and daughter. So in honor of some of the face artwork I saw, we got inspired to create some to create some art of our own in hopes of sending him light, love, adventure, and prayers.
The Wish Factor 
Beautiful tribute to your Papi, Guat! I got goose bumps. You’ll always be Julio’s daughter! xo
Thanks so much chica. Definitely identify myself as my father’s daughter, he was my bud, flaws and all. Some days are super rough and the memories just hit me and it sucks, just sucks that he’s gone. But days like this when you celebrate the vibrancy of his life just … Whew sometimes makes me miss him more. But thanks for stopping by and reading and saying kind things. How have you been haven’t seen your stuff in my reader, I’m gonna mosey my way down to your site and see how you’re doing 🙂
You always get me crying when you write on your father. Love and peace to you hermana. And thank you, most of all. Thank you for sharing his life with all of us.
Thanks so much bud. It’s always tough around here, I have flashbacks or I see things that he might have enjoyed and it just burns me out. But celebrating him today was good, had him on my mind all day, listening to the jazz station and driving his truck. I’m glad you could hear the love in my stories, hoping he got that too.
We never stop missing our parents when they are gone. I love your tribute posts to your Dad. I’m sure he would too. Precious photos, TG. *hugs*
Thanks so much for your kind words. And you’re totally right, we totally never stop missing them, it’s still there, but celebrating his life is a good one, makes me think way back in order to try and capture a moment, feel present back then. Thanks for reading 🙂