Day After

This is my friend, Michael. Watching him take his time towards the counter, I say, "Good morning! How was your weekend?" He looks at me, and uncertainly responds, "Oh, it was ok; I worked all weekend."

     Ten years ago, my Appa passed away from this earth. It feels like yesterday and I still dream about him.

After a long hesitation, Michael begins to share, "My father died a month ago and I keep calling his cell phone because I usually call my father everyday but I keep forgetting expecting him to answer but I forget he is not here anymore."

     The day after Father's Day. Waking this morning, I remember I not spending this holiday with my Appa for the last 15 years of his life because I was too busy dedicated to my local church and the special events for other fathers believing that was faithfulness. Nostalgic regret.

"My father was a good father. He worked so hard to support us and was always good to us. He was the type of father people always wish they had."

     My Appa was a good father. He worked so hard to support us and was always good to us. He was  the type father people always wish they had.

"He was 180 pounds before chemo. His weight dropped 60 pounds but he was doing great. Then he couldn't walk anymore and had to stay in bed. I told him I was scared. He told me he was going to be ok and to take him out to eat for Father's day. He passed away the next day."

     I took my Appa out to Golden Corral the night before his surgery. He tried entrees he never ate before. I asked him why and he said this would be his last chance to try new food. I became angry and told him he will be fine and can eat all he wants when he comes out of surgery. It was his last meal.

"Before he died, my father told me to always work hard and pay your bills on time. So I have been working a lot to not think about my father but I had to take a break and came here to shop to get my mind off of things but I can't believe that he is not here anymore."

     Before he died, my Appa told me to always be good to my mother because I only have one mom, and to be good to my brother because I only have one sibling. Michael reminded me.

I empathetically offer a pretzel and he stayed for another half an hour standing at the counter, in between customers, sharing memories and shock. He said he will be back Thursday.