How I Wish You Were Here
Just giving you a heads up, this isn’t going to be worth reading.
And yes, I know that sounds like a ploy to actually get you to read, but I swear it’s not.
It’s just something I know I need to write, so I’m going to. But it’s not going to be good. I really have nothing of value to say to anyone right now.
I’m just sitting here. On the couch. In the dark. Watching Good Will Hunting. With tears in my eyes.
A perfect movie. Which I won’t do a disservice to by talking about.
It’s just perfect, that’s all.
At the end of this day.
Three years exactly since I stood over my dad and watched him take his last breath.
I miss him so much.
Also, coincidentally, today is the day that I found out that I’m not sick.
I had a bit of a health scare but like I said, I’m good.
Before I was wheeled in for the endoscopy, a few days after the esophagram I had to have, I thought about the time in college I had surgery on my right arm after breaking it rollerblading.
I dreamt of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were during the operation. At least, I thought I was dreaming about it. In reality, I was waking up from the anesthesia and the doctors were listening to it in the operating room.
And check this out, a moment before they induced me into to la la land today, I noticed a framed photo of the moon on the wall. The caption read: The dark side of the mood?
More evidence pointing to how the universe is intricately connected and more proof that every “coincidence” is a reminder of that connection. Winks from an ineffable intelligence.
And, just maybe, a wink from my dad. Letting me know it’s all going to be okay.
Which, I’m so grateful to say, it was. Is.
“Just do what’s in your heart son, you’ll be fine.” – Sean Maguire to Will Hunting. And just maybe, another wink from my dad to me. I’ll choose to believe it was.