Waves

Remember when I wrote about the ebb and flow of emotions and feelings, the waves of both sadness and exhilaration that can sweep over you at a moment's notice? I've been having a lot of those moments lately.

A lot of them happen when I think about my kids. This is a big year. Jack is going to be a teenager. Ella is hitting double digits in the fall. My son is exactly my height as of right now. Life is always changing but I feel like lately it's been changing at a faster rate. Thus the increase in these emotional waves.

I started watching this show called "Parenthood" a few nights ago. My sister told me to watch it, said the dad on the show kind of reminded her of our dad. The very first episode ends with the whole family at a big dinner table, laughing, eating, talking - and the dad, the patriarch, making a toast. Just like my dad did. Waterworks? You bet. Tonight I watched the third episode. I'm not sure what it was about this episode that made the dam burst open again. Maybe it was a feeling of envy of these siblings who all live close to one another and can drop in on each other any old time, sharing the day to day things like you only can when you see someone frequently. I started feeling sad that my sister and I live three hours apart - close enough to visit, but not close enough for that "drop-in" stuff. I'd give anything to be able to call her and say "Hey, come over for a drink!" or "Let's go for a run" or just "Let's hang out."

Then the dad in the show came in wearing a button down denim shirt, open in front with a t-shirt underneath and sunglasses around his neck on a string and I really lost it. That's what my dad always did. Those denim shirts and "dungarees" - God, I miss them. I miss him.

I've had a couple of episodes lately of "Holy crap, my dad is gone and I'm never going to see him again". Yes, I hold tight to the notion of "one day we'll be reunited" - but in all honesty, the fact that I'll never see him again in the flesh really sucks. Here we are, making our way through the third year without him. These waves come far less frequently, but they still come. I doubt they will ever cease entirely. This is what it means to be human.

So I remind myself that no, my sister does not live around the corner and no, I can't see her whenever I want. But she's still on this earth and I can call her, text her, check out her photos on Facebook and know that even though our times together are spread apart, we still have them.

I welcome the waves when they come because they remind me that I haven't forgotten. They make me feel human, a part of this world. They make me feel alive.