I was just watching the video my uncle made in memory of my dad.
It brings me to tears everytime.
And I want to cry.
Yet I’m so tired of crying.
I oddly enough, even though it makes me so sad, love the video of my dad. Because it reminds of me of him, and I’m so afraid to forget him.
I look at these pictures of him, and him with me and Alexander and Mom, and I feel so bad because he didn’t know then that my mom would divorce him and a few years later he would die.
It’s not fair to him, or to me. Or to the rest of my family. I hate not knowing what happened. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
And as I sit down here and secretly cry, maybe my Mom is upstairs secretly crying as well.
I miss him, and I love him. But that’s not going to bring him back. So I have to keep him alive in my memory.
I have to remember what he looked like, what he smelled like, how it felt when he hugged me, the sound of his voice, and how he told me he loved me.
I’m so afraid to forget.
