You left but you never left

It was a Monday morning when the phone rang during the first-block. It was study-hall and no one was in the room, not even the teacher, except me. But for some reason, my heart dropped when the phone rang. The phone never rings in study-hall unless the front office is looking for a student.  

Then my phone rang.  

Next thing I know, I am rushing home before the start of the second block.

I will never forget that day, or the days leading up to the day you left us. It was one hell of a ride after the new year. But Dad kept a lot from Sarah and I, so I can’t imagine what was really happening.

But I’m glad I was able to spend one full day with you before you left. You slept the entire time but I didn’t care. As long as I was with you. 

I remember the day you came home from the hospital. You were in pain but there was pure joy in your eyes the moment they wheeled you through the door. The whole family was there to welcome you home, even our next-door neighbor.

For the next few weeks, you had your good and bad days, and you had a lot of visitors.  At the time, I didn’t know why but now I do.  

After you left, things changed.

I can’t bear to go into your house anymore. There are too many memories. Every time I step in, I think of you and I always expect to see you sitting in your chair, reading or watching TV. I remember I would yell in order for you to hear me and you would jump. Looking back, I’m sorry for scaring you, I just didn’t want you to think a stranger was in the house.

I hope you don’t mind but we had to use your living room and some closet space for our things. We remodeled our kitchen and our kitchen supplies needed to go somewhere as the job progressed. Also, my room is too small for my college boxes, I needed some room to organize. Thank you for allowing us to put our things in your house. I made sure everything was put back just as it was.

Mom has started cooking your recipes. Once a month, she would make a huge pot of sauce with meatballs, like you used to.  I am not sure if you helped but the meatballs taste exactly like yours. Mom also learned how to make buttered potatoes.  Now if only we could find the recipe to your famous pantalets.

Dad misses you. He doesn’t say or show it, but I can tell he misses you. Especially during each holiday season. Holidays have gotten tougher with you gone and I have to say, I miss our traditions too, all the food and fun we used to have at your house.  

Oh, and thanks for helping Dad during his heart attack. I know you miss him but we need him to stay a little while longer.  He’s doing really well with the new diet and passed his physical therapy lessons.

I’m not sure how Uncle Mike is doing. The last time I saw him was a year ago and every time I try to go see him, he forgets and won’t be home.  But that’s ok, I guess. He’s with his daughter and two sons, and their children, so that’s good they’re talking again.  I still talk to him on the phone but we don’t talk about sensitive topics because I know he will get upset.

Sarah’s doing great. She hides her emotions very well but I can tell she misses you.  She refuses to go into your house because of the memory of you, but she still talks about you and the family tree a lot.  She’s a senior now and has applied to colleges, she even got accepted to two as of now. She completed her soccer career but continues to run track. And don’t worry, we are planning to have a graduation party for her and we’ll invite the entire family. Viva Italia!

On another note, the Flyers aren’t doing so well. They keep blowing leads and losing in overtime. But I’m sure you’re watching, you never miss a game. Sometimes I can hear you yelling at the TV, just like you always did.

As for me, I’m in college studying filmmaking all while going to karate on weekends to work, so I’m pretty busy. I have a boyfriend and I wish you could have met him. He’s great, I think you would like him.

I really miss you. Things aren’t the same without you here, but we are learning to adapt and create new traditions. I still remember the last words you said to me. Well, your eyes told me since you could not speak, but I could hear you in my mind.  It was three days before you left, “I’m OK honey. Everything is OK,” something you used to say all the time because you never wanted Sarah or me to worry about you.  Ever.

So now what?  Is it time to say good-bye?  I don’t want to, this is hard.  There is still so much I want to tell you, and I will someday.  But for now, I want you to know that we are OK. I don’t want you to worry about us like you didn’t want us to worry about you.  We do miss you and we always will, but we know you’re still watching us.  If you weren’t, I don’t think Mom would be making meatballs and sauce every month. I don’t think Uncle Mike would be talking to his children and grandchildren. I don’t think Dad would act like you the way he does now. There are times when I feel like it’s you talking and not Dad because he is you.

Your spirit never left. It still lives in all of us.

So this isn’t good-bye forever. It is only good-bye for now.

Tell Pop-Pop and all my aunts and uncles I said hi. I’ll do my part down here and take care of Dad and Uncle Mike.

I love you, Mom-Mom.

P.S. Take good care of that hockey puck for me.  I know Gudas is your favorite.