My dad would have known in two seconds.
In less than that.
But my mom wasn’t exactly sure.
“Hey, where in Brooklyn is that?” I asked.
We watched the movie Brooklyn tonight and she didn’t know where this one specific scene was shot.
My dad would have said something like, “That’s the corner of so-and-so and so-and-so. I once worked three blocks away from there. And you see that car? It’s a ’49 Pontiac. My father had one.”
I’m truly grateful to have the opportunity to spend so much time with my mom, but I really missed him being around tonight. More so than usual.
I miss, so much, seeing them on the couch together.
And me, being me, knew full well it wouldn’t last like that forever so I took rolls and rolls of mental photos of my parents falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. It’s just that I was hoping to keep those photo books in storage for as long as possible.
But as my dad was fond of quoting, “The best laid plans…”
And listen, I know I’ve been writing about my dad being dead for a few years already. But if you haven’t experienced losing a loved one in such a horrible way, I’m simultaneously envious and relieved for you. But let me just say this – there’s no getting adjusted to it. It’s awful. Always.
I mean, of course I smile and make people laugh and I enjoy existing for the most part, but his absence on the couch is still as shocking as wet sponges hooked up to a car battery.
I’m teary as I type this and got teary earlier when I couldn’t watch him watch the movie.
But these weren’t the only two times I cried tonight.
I also lost it a little when I saw Tony look at Eilis in Brooklyn. He fell in love with her, deeply, before he was even conscious of it and it was portrayed so perfectly and delicately and beautifully.
I’ve been in love like that and it’s the goddamn greatest ever, but that wasn’t what pushed tears through my tear ducts.
I cried because I’ve loved like that. And I’m in love like that, everyday. Incessantly. With just about everything beautiful. And that made me cry when I realized, for the first time really, that’s all I have.
That’s all I have.
That’s all I got to offer. And I know, thoroughly, down to my bone marrow, that it will never, ever be enough in this world.
And that’s sad.
It’s just so sad for so many reasons.
But at least I know why I’m here. Finally.
So, if you’re reading this now, there’s a pretty good chance that I love you. Whoever you are. And if you’re thinking these are just words, think again.