An altar for my dad…

An altar for my dad...

7 years ago today, I woke up to prepare a thanksgiving feast for my family except I couldn’t just start cooking. My spirit needed something from me. It told me I couldn’t do anything until my home was dressed in white and so in search I went. Down broadway to buy white kitchen curtains, white bathroom curtains, white table cloths and fabric for the white altar I was going to put up. In one hand I had the abundance of white flowers I had just bought and on the other the aqua florida. What I didn’t know was that I had not walked through Broadway alone, he, they, had walked with me Guided me all the way, they, he, had chosen the flowers and the fabric. They, had set the stage and through me he, had prepared his own altar in our house. He knew that on this day he would die, they knew that on this day we had to acknowledge their death. And so I did, I built the altar, prepared my home without knowing that I was saying goodbye to my dad. That even through his death he was taking care of me and so I cooked and cleaned and cooked and cleaned until I got the phone call. He waited , he waited till I had finished , he set up our home to ground me for the news I was about to hear. On Nov 24th, 2006 my dad passed away. On thanksgiving day many years ago someone declared this day a holiday in celebration of a massacre, a genocide of a people. On this day, I heard the shattering breaking of the bond of a father and motherless daughter. Thanksgiving redefined. So for the past 7 years I sit here as if it happening all over again, the call, the news, I prepare to relive it as if it happened today. And I wonder on this day of giving thanks will there ever be a time where the hurt of the people we have lost, whether we knew them or not doesn’t hurt as bad. I wonder on this thanks giving day will there ever be time when I can look up to the sky and give thanks for the death of my dad.

And so the story goes that one day you are here and the next day you are gone

Those left behind ask themselves what did we miss

What didn’t we do

What could I have said that I didn’t say

Who could I have been

If only I listened more, loved more, been more

you will still be alive

And that my dear friends is the incompletion of death

the mystery it leaves behind

that we don’t know, that we couldn’t have

that there was nothing more to be than what we were

cause we didn’t know that this was your last day

that this was the last moment, the last conversation, the last smile, the last promise

so what is there to do but live each day as if its your last

complete every conversation, be your best self, do it anyway, love , be generous, be a contribution, call them anyway, forgive, apologize, love and love some more

cause if it is so that this moment could be our last we will be wishing we had the moment back to do it differently, so do it differently today cause we are both alive, cry with me now, laugh with me now, acknowledge me now, love me now, forgive me now, apologize now, contribute to me now, love love love me now

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