Yes it is sad, but I am trying to celebrate his life by remembering him.
He was an generous man who could be ornery at the same time. I like to think that one of the things he appreciated about me was that I never let him get away with telling me what to do. You see, he was a man of power and greatness, and men of power need someone to put them in their place every once in a while (in my case it was all the time because I am just as stubborn as him).
In the end we'd settle our differences until the next little incident came along. We both enjoyed the challenge.
My friend met my father once and told me that I was just like him, not by way of looks, but intelligence, charm and well, stubbornness. I accepted his comment as a compliment because I had nothing but respect for my father.He will be missed. Here's one of our last conversations when he was in the hospital about a week before he died (he died at home, I think this brought him a sense of peace).
Daddy (pronounced Duddy): Nana Araba I like you. Thank you for everything you have done for me.
Me: *smile*
Daddy (looking at me intently): I really like you. Do you like me, too?
Me (bigger smile): Yes Daddy I like you. Very much.
A short nod of his head and a smile from my father as if that's all he needed to hear.
He never told me he loved me, but he showed it and I believe that one conversation expressed it. In this life he did well by me, and I hope I did well by him too.
Rest in peace, my father.
