here we go again

august 4th, 1999, (continued)

I'm sorry. I know I said I've been in better moods lately, but all of a sudden, I'm melancholy. I'll explain why.

It's about to rain. I'm reading other people's online journals. I'm enjoying myself. I'm getting into someone else's head for a while. Thunder. Wind whistling. It's cooler outside. Growing dark. Trees are bending and swaying. Rain.


I'm just chillin' - listening to the radio - one of those 'mixed' variety stations. Been jammin' to an older song by the Police. I think it was "Don't Stand So Close to Me" or something.

Then it happens.

"...and now, we'll let Sarah McLachlan take us into the next set of favorites." My ears perk up after being in a trance with someone else's writing. Sarah McLachlan? Oh good.


It's "Angel".

I don't care what anyone says, but in my opinion, this has got to be the best song ever written and couldn't be sung by a more perfect woman than her.

Why, you ask?

Because I dedicate it to my dad. Plain and simple. Every word is perfection.

I've had her "Surfacing" CD for quite some time, and have loved every song, but no other song can express what I feel for my dad, and what I would say to him right now if I could.

I've only heard this song a few times by chance since he died, and it has always had me on the verge of tears every time. For instance, the last time I heard it, I was in the car with Carl driving, and he left it on thanks to my silent pleas. I grew so sad and mournful at the loss of my dad that I had the tears running down my face, unnoticed by Carl's eyes which were fixed on the road.

Sometimes I wish Carl could understand how I feel. I want him to understand and magically say: "Now, now. Shhhh...It's okay. I know you loved him. Come here. Let me be your personal kleenex for a while."

Sometimes I think Zeus understands me more when I'm upset. I remember once I was crying because of my dad, and I was laying on my bed with Zeus at my feet. He looked at me with the most pitiful expression, ears down by his face, and he didn't walk, but crawled over to me, and curled up between my neck and my shoulder and his paw on my cheek. He then nuzzled his face and nose under my chin. I swear if he could talk, he would have said: "Mommy, I love you. It's okay to cry. Here, use my left ear if you have to - I don't mind. You treat me good, heck, why not use my big ole floppy ear for some good? It's clean, I swear. Don't be sad. I don't like it when you're sad."

There are so many things I could say to my dad. To quote a good song that I can't remember the artist for: "I wasn't there that morning when my father passed away...I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say."

So, as I listened to this song, I just couldn't move. I couldn't type anything. I couldn't read anything. All I could was watch the rain come down and think about my dad.

I miss my dad. Bad.

I miss his smile. I miss his laugh. I miss his stern looks. I miss his humor. I miss his style of clothing. I miss his knowledge. I miss being able to laugh to myself when I knew he was wrong but acted as if he knew it all. I miss his hugs. I miss him saying: "I love you, Christina." I miss him. Bad.

There are so many things I didn't get to tell my dad. So many things I wanted him to know. So many things I wanted him to see.

Too many things left unsaid.

If you love someone, please don't take them for granted like I did.

It's a lot easier to give a hug - or say "I love you" - or visit someone more often - than dealing with the heartbreak of never giving enough of the aforesaid and knowing you can never have the opportunity to again.

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