My dad died again Sunday morning, around 12:32 in the morning or so. I don’t keep up with the exact time, but suffice it to say, this time like all the rest provided its own special memory. The man had blue eyes, pale blue eyes that separated emotional waters and brought a stillness in place of anger and disbelief. Pale blue eyes that revealed no hero, just a sanctuary for his son when he was weak. So again he sealed his eyes, without breathing or fury, no longer man, just a spirit, no power, no words, the breach to pass, no longer a great divide.
That was what was different this time when dad closed his eyes, I saw him say goodbye. This time for the fourteenth time he simply let me go, with a gentle sigh. Amazing really for a man who was not afraid to die, to hold on to me like that. I think I’ll have to go back, over and over again. May be I’ll have to watch his pale blue eyes close fourteen times in my mind. I’ll look at the story to see if it fragments, when the essence leaves the iris, when the wind changes direction, and in benediction my ever changing sorrow is released.
There should be more words, a book of memorandum, but that would not be truthful, that would bring false stature to what true love is. My dad had love that sits in abandoned days and waits in patience for empty years to realize their mistakes. Pale blue a color recognized only by the best of artist when the time has come to put the finishing touches on their landscape of a greater place. In benediction he showed me a way to walk through the storm, and although I have read this, it surprises me to know my dad lived it, for no power can hold one who does not look for an escape.
Pale blue, a benediction, after so many years and not seeing his face. A wonderful gift he has left me, simple not so full of religion and creed, not based in shamanistic technology. Just eye sight, passed down in death so many times, at last I am finally realizing what his memory has completed, and I will not look to escape from time. I will love the moment for what it has done.
Jack M. Swearingen died on April 20, 2000, he was my dad. – דָּנִיֵּאל – 04/22/2014