Today would have been my father’s birthday. Very often it fell on Father’s Day, giving us even more reason to celebrate. My dad was a special man, and not because he was mine but because he possessed one of the kindest and most generous hearts, was filled with wit and humor, was immensely intelligent, and loved people, all of them. Most of all, he adored my mother and his two children. He and my mother met in London and fell in love instantly. Three months later they began their life in the Hamptons. Marrying later in life, he never suspected he’d be a father. He was one of the best.
We lost him to a terminal illness 27 years ago, yet not a day passes in which I don’t think of this sweet man and know that he is with me. My dad was American, a New Yorker, but was deeply devoted to both France and Italy. I know on an instinctual level that he has been guiding my life, watching over me as he had done since childhood. When I moved to New York City to start my adult life, he was with me. When I traveled the world for 13 months, he was with me. When I met my Italian on the street in Soho, he was with me. When I feel doubt or fear, he helps to relieve my mind. As does my beloved mother in the living, so does my father in his passing.
My father continues this journey with me now, sharing my life between Paris and the Italian Riviera, two places that were very close to his heart. I know that he is smiling from above, pleased to see his daughter living as he would have liked me to, by my heart. And sharing this life with a soulful man very much like him. I’m certain they would have adored one another.
My dad was a writer, and the joy I feel in writing is shared with him, connecting us on an even deeper level. I like to believe he sends me words when I need them. And shares in my achievements.
For all of you blessed to share this day, and all the days to follow, with your fathers, enjoy! And those whose fathers too have passed, know that they are always with you.
Kasia,
The piece you wrote about your father touched my heart. I also had such a relationship with both my mother and father. My mother was French and my father an American. They met in France just after the war and were married in Strasbourg. My mother became an American citizen and would only speak English at home. My parents have both passed away and there is not a single day that goes by that I do not think of them. Like you I know that they are always with me guiding me through life’s many decisions. Again, thank you such a moving and touching story about your father.
Francine
Dear Francine, thank you for sharing your own beautiful story. We are both very blessed to have been (and still to be) this close to our parents. It’s important to keep their memories alive throughout our lives.
Warmest wishes from Paris!
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