I am thinking of you today. I think of you every day. You live in me. But today marks seven years since you left. I wasn’t there to say a final goodbye. My only one regret in life. I promised to bring you lanterns to hang in your room, it would have been just a few days longer before I returned, but you could not wait for me. I understand. The agony was too much. I just wish I was there to hold your hand.
Remembering you always, daddy.
You weren’t the regular dad, I cannot remember you ever hugging me. But that was ok, we are both Aspies, we don’t need that kind of affection. Not much anyway. All the other things you shared with me, gave to me, and taught me: these filled me with so much more than the hugs and kisses that other dads give. We are different from other people. And it is that special difference that I will always treasure. You left me with what I love, all that I can embrace and be enwrapped inside. You left me all that I am and am still discovering that I can be. The inspiration, the art, the music, the songs, the dancing, the literature, the science, the love for dogs, the enquiring mind, the relentless pursuit of knowledge, the hands on zest for practice, the minutiae, the sensorial delight, the multimodality and multidimensionality that gathers all that makes my life full. My polymathic idol. My Golden Standard. Thank you for the autistic brain. Your last word to me was to return to where I belong, to pursue who I am, “It is time you went back to your music and art. That is you.” Thank you for this final legacy and for giving me the means. I hope you are proud of me.
Oh, and Fred Astaire. You loved Fred. And so do I. They can’t take that away from me.