Things I Wish I’d Said When I Was Still Around

You know, when you get to the other side – or wherever this is – you start thinking about all the things you never said. All the times you bit your tongue, shrugged or figured, Eh, they know how I feel.

Turns out, sometimes they don’t.

I wasn’t much for big speeches. Never had much patience for heart-to-hearts or sentimental talks. I figured if I showed up, paid the bills, fixed what was broken, and snook you a fiver when your mom wasn’t looking, you’d know I loved you.

And maybe you did. But just in case you didn’t…

I was proud of you.

Even when you screwed up. Especially then. Watching you fall down and get back up – sometimes cussing, sometimes crying, sometimes both – that was the good stuff. I didn’t always know how to say it, but I was always watching.

I miss the noise of the house. The clatter of dishes, the dumb arguments over who left the gate open, the way your mom used to sing off-key in the kitchen when she thought no one was listening.

And I see you now. I see how you carry the weight of things you don’t need to. How you stay up too late, worrying about stuff you can’t fix, holding onto old hurts like they’re heirlooms.

Let me tell you something from where I’m sitting: none of it matters like you think it does.

The grudges. The should-haves. The things you were too stubborn or scared to say. They shrink down to nothing once you’re on this side of the veil. The only thing that matters is how you made the people you love feel while you were here.

So here’s your message from me:

Stop waiting for the ‘right time’ to say what you need to say. Tell them you love them. Apologize if you should. Laugh when it’s funny. Hug them a little longer.

And every now and then, have a drink and tell a stupid story about me. Embellish it. I won’t mind.

I didn’t say it, so I’m saying it now:
I love you, kid. Always did. Always will.

– Dad

End note:
Stay tuned for more dispatches from the other side. Mom’s already heckling me about hogging the spotlight.