I missed my New Years Day phone call. I tried to stay in bed a little bit later so that the phone not ringing would not be so obvious. I celebrated New Years Eve with Tony and Donna and had a nice night. Donna was too kind when the ball dropped and I instantly started crying. I wanted to say good-bye to 2013 so badly but again felt like I was saying good- bye to you. It sucked. Then I got a text from Andi and it simply said ” I want Dad back”. You know Andi is a million, billion times stronger than me so that simple sentence spoke volumes to me and how much she is hurting. I also thought it was comforting that she felt the exact same way as I did as the ball dropped.
I missed my phone call. I wanted to tell you what I had done the night before and tell you all the resolutions I was not going to make. I wanted to tell you what the kids did and that Mario had celebrated in the North End. I wanted to tell you that I think Mario is becoming more and more like Ugo everyday and I know that would make you smile. I wanted to tell you that Rosa made panzerotti and I only ate one. (Shocking). I wanted to tell you that 2013 was the hardest year in so many ways but one of the highlights was Louie’s 50th Birthday party because you were here. I wanted to tell you that I can still see you sitting at my kitchen table drinking your DD and reading the paper. I wanted to tell you that I sit in the same seat, close my eyes and listen to the sound of your voice in my head. I wanted to tell you that I love you.
So, as I lay in bed not wanting to get up and listen to the silence of the phone call that would not come I thought of you. I thought about how though physically I did not see you that often you were still such a huge part of my life. I thought that somehow that would make your passing (I hate that phrase but hate saying dying even more) a little bit more bearable. We would go huge lengths of time without seeing each other in person yet since you have passed I have realized just how much a part of my everyday life you were. I am in awe that you so effortlessly were a part of our lives though so far away. I miss those quick 5 minute phone calls in between appointments just to check in and see what we were doing. I am blown away that even though I did not see you as often as we would have liked your presence is so missed. I miss knowing that you are out there and just a phone call away.
The Priest at St. Timothy’s (who has three funerals? You!) said something that really resonated with all of us. He said that most people carry their cross on the outside. That what is weighing heavy on them can often be seen. He said that what he knew of you is that you carried your cross on the inside. That what you showed on the outside was all good. That we should not make you a Saint (I know you would disagree with that) that we all have crosses to bear but with your love and patience you bore yours where nobody could see them. Well, I am wearing my cross on the outside for all the world to see and my cross is missing you.