I am struggling to put words to the ache in my heart. My anchor, my favorite comedian, my champion, my sweet Baboo, my Daddy, the Last Jedi, has joined the Force. Death doesn’t seem real, it doesn’t seem like my dad is at his “final resting place”. It’s like he’s on the other side of my whispers, somehow listening but just out of my reach. Whatever realm, dimension or after-life he’s in now, I know he’s having an amazing adventure, and one day, he’ll get in touch with me after he goes through his after-life orientation. He loved me too much to leave me hanging.
I am my Father’s daughter. I have his nose, his laugh, his geeky tendencies, his temper, his stubbornness, and so many more small things that only he and I knew that we had in common. He made the best spaghetti. He taught me how to cook, tie my shoes, and quote “Spaceballs” the movie. He inspired me with his ability to love people unconditionally, but also not let anyone disrespect his life choices. He was a shining example of resiliency, determination, and unwavering independence and individuality. He taught me that “toxic masculinity” did not have to be a man’s default setting.
He was determined to live his life by his own rules and all of the fight I have in me came from my Daddy. And Lord knows my Dad could fight! He was a warrior, a protector, and the court jester. He made me feel safe. He loved me more than all the stars in the sky and more than all the water in the sea, as he would often tell me.
I am grateful to have been raised by a legend and legends never die.
Quiet Rage 