Nora Leca

Letters to Myself: Dear Dad,

I woke up too early this morning, at 5:30, and couldn’t go back to sleep, sad thoughts flooded my mind again and I couldn’t block it out just lying there trying to sleep, so I went upstairs to make a tea, leaving Colin to sleep. I see mom stayed up last night and cleaned the kitchen. I guess the pain wouldn’t let her sleep. That, or her fastidious cleaning obsession kept her up. I’m going to guess the former.

I decided I will go for that walk. For you.

I grab a robe and in my pajamas, I take my tea and exit out the back door, not before passing your row of shoes by the window. Mom cried when she saw those last night too. Everything that reminds her of you makes her cry, and when she cries, I cry too. I think our tears ducts are connected somehow. Nothing is suitable for the rain except a big oversized pair of your wellingtons, so I slip them on, and head out into the drizzle.

Yesterday was the last day of your life, the last morning you had, and the last time you saw mom. Today was the first day of the rest of our lives without you. Today is Day 1.

Yesterday was still too shocking to really process, today we have to come to terms of a life beyond you. We woke up and sadly, it wasn’t all a bad dream.

After knowing you were gone, I wish I’d said goodbye, but I realize now I’ll never really say goodbye;

Our conversation will never end, and while for the better part of our 25 years together you did most of the talking, I guess it’s my turn to do the talking, so you better get great at listening. You’ve got all the time in the world, haven’t you ;) / ux designer / visual creative / maker / gamer