my dad and my grandson
It's Gonna BE OKAY.
That is the title of a journal,
a book with blank pages waiting to be filled.
My daughter gave me the journal two Christmas' ago.
I've only written two pages.
The first page I wrote over a year ago.
This page ends with the words of my father,
the last words he spoke to me using full sentences.
I had called him because he had been admitted to the hospital.
When he got on the phone with me he had something prepared to say,
which means he didn't answer the question I asked him.
"Dad, how are you doing?"
To which he said:
"I read the front page article you were in."
Then he asked me a question:
"Why didn't you mention me? You mentioned your mother."
I knew he was poking at me.
I knew he was proud of the article.
I knew he was pleased with the news.
The article was about the Supreme Court decision to
affirm same-gender marriage.
I told him that mom was the first person to call me, that
was all I intended to tell the reporter.
(and this was the last sentence he would speak to me)
"I should have been in that story too, because my repsonse
to the Supreme Court decision was the best response."
And indeed it was,
because I am writing about him today
and remembering his words today.
It's over a year since his death.
The second page of the journal is now filled.
This page tells of my daughters marriage that took
place one year to the day since his death.
That man's love reaches through the months
and I suppose will reach through the years.
I believe it is now time for me to fill up the third
page to that journal.