June 27 2018
I’ve always loved the color red
A snowy afternoon by the time of Christmas
The heaven is dark but lots of lights are glittering
from every street, every building in the city
I’m twelve, or maybe even fourteen,
a most sensitive age, for a girl
who still hadn’t been kissed or looked for.
“Ah”, I said
and stopped in front of the large store-window
“Look, mom, what a beautiful red coat!”
I could hear her frown when she said:
“You, who are so gray and insignificant,
shall not wear red.”
Later on I got a new winter coat, a gray one
with a collar buttoned up to the chin
And I can still feel the pain
June 28 2018
Just the other day, I was lying on the sofa and my intention was to ponder my childhood according to my mom. Instead I suddenly came to think of my dad, and how much I still miss him.
I started to cry, and while sobbing I said out loud: “Oh daddy! I miss you so much, I wish you were here!”
A voice said inside my head: “You can’t have that, you know.”
“Of course I know! He. Is. Dead! Since. Long!
But I still wish we would have had more years together!”
I got married, left my parent’s home before I had turned 18, and moved to another city. Of course we visited my parents once in a while during the years to come, and they visited us, but not exactly on a weekly basis. Not even monthly. It was too far away to drive that often. And I was glad, sorry to say.
But I missed not having enough opportunities to talk to my dad. During growing up, we had always been talking, he was always there for me, and he has taught me so much about all and everything. And of lots of small nothingnesses. While out in the garden, or biking together, or sitting in his lap while he was reading for me or telling me stories from when he was a child.
Now – SHE was always around when we met.
It’s awful to say such a thing about ones mother, I know that, and it’s very difficult! It’s not allowed, and it hurts! But I have to tell the truth! To myself.
Yes! I have to realize the true truth.
They are both gone now. I was only thirty when my dad died, two years later my mom. An awfully long time has passed since, a lot of water under the bridges.
But I was lucky to be able to talk privately with my dad at the end of his life, before his cancer was so severe that he ended up att the hospital. It was a very good talk, and we were able to have some conversation by letters afterwards. At that time mom had had a couple of minor strokes, so he could obviously, and luckily, hide those letters and our conversation from her.
I could speak freely, and so could he.
The last time I saw him was at the hospital. He was very ill then and all yellow. But when I entered the room and he saw me, his smile lightened up the entire room.
Oh daddy! I miss you so much and I will always love you!