My Daddy

It’s summer here in Houston, and our pool is an amazing 95 degrees, which I love. I’ve used my pool more this summer than I have in the past 15 years we have lived here. I have a ritual. I have my iTunes playlist – an endless supply of music that could play for a week straight without repeating a song. I put the raft in the pool, and throw a tennis ball in. The raft is for Barnaby, our Labradoodle whose favorite thing ever is swimming. He immediately jumps upon the raft, and then jumps off the raft with a big splash to swim after the tennis ball. He then dog paddles his way to the steps happily, ball in mouth. He climbs out, shakes all the water off his thick hair, and drops the ball back into the pool. Then he repeats the process ad infinitum.

As he plays, I usually float around, and let the music wash through me. I have a connection with each song on that playlist. Today, it was Billy Joel from 1973. The “Piano Man” album.

I learned a few years ago that my Dad was obsessed with that album. It wasn’t unusual to see him laying stretched out on the couch on a lazy weekend with 1975 era monster sized headphones wrapped around his head, eyes closed, releasing himself to his music. He loved Broadway Show-tunes, which is why I was so surprised to hear his love for Billy Joel.

Today as I was swimming, my bluetooth speaker turned all the way up to its limit, the early Billy Joel began playing. I found myself wondering if we were somehow connected in this moment. I imagined him listening to the very same songs I was listening to. I began to tear up, my throat clenching tight as it always does before I begin to cry. Through the music, I felt him.

My father died when I was only 9 years old. It was very sudden. Leukemia. I had let go of him a long time ago. I used to feel him around me all the time. It gave me great comfort. Then there came a day when I came to realize it was selfish of me to keep him with me. There were far greater things he could be doing than being a ghost. I believe in the afterlife. Heaven. I had to let him go to experience all that God had in store for him.

Yet, for some reason, today he was back. I felt him through the music. Then, as quickly as it came on, it passed. He was gone again. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over the loss of my Daddy. The life of the party, and the love I long for to this day. The only love of my childhood.

It wasn’t until I came inside that I realized that tomorrow will be the anniversary of his death.

I miss you, Daddy, and I’ll see you when it’s my turn.