I wonder what my dad would think about the pandemic, quarantine, and how many loved ones are social distancing or spending time apart.
This is just one of several thoughts I’ve had wondering what my dad would have to say or what he would think about something going on in the world.
These internal questions started the day he died. Literally. I got the news he died when I left a movie theater. I got out of the movie and saw that I had a lot of missed calls and although I wasn’t sure what it was, I knew something was very wrong. I was in shock. When I got to my apartment I robotically threw things in a bag. I couldn’t tell you what I packed. When I got back to my childhood home I cried and hugged my mom and then I sat on the couch surrounded by my mom, a few of my aunts and uncles, and family friends and looked at the TV screen. The Chicago Cubs were playing in the World Series and they won. I wonder what my dad would think about the Cubs finally winning another World Series.
A few days after the Cubs won, Donald Trump was elected as president. I remember watching the polling results in the basement of my parent’s house, surrounded by my brother and my cousin. When we realized the outcome was going to be in Trump’s favor, I wondered what my dad would think about it.
I’ve had a lot of other questions or thoughts like this over the past four and a half years.
I wonder what my dad would think about me becoming a broadcaster. An introvert, who loves writing, is now on a team of people providing programming for a radio network.
I wonder what he would think about me finally starting a rough draft. He asked me several years ago when I was finally going to write a book, reminding me of my own wish to do that. I finally started it and am working through my first rough draft.
Grief isn’t just big anniversaries. It’s the small moments, questions, and thoughts that serve as a reminder that you can’t ask the person you’re missing.