I had a lot of things written, but didn’t want to post them until after I’d talked to my Mum, and then, in retrospect, I didn’t want to post them at all. That’s why this is posted on what is technically the 5th, a day late according to Korean time, but actually February 4th in Canadian time.
My mother, by the way, is doing okay. When I called, she was talking about happy things, and she really seems fine. I am too. I realized that unconsciously knowing this date was coming was probably part of my inexplicably messed-up sleeping patterns, but I’m really okay.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him, or think of him. I do. A lot, even if I don’t mention it often.
I think I’ll leave it at that, for now. He’d appreciate me keeping all my other thoughts and baggage and issues to myself, on a day like this, and leaving off with something that says more: the last picture I ever took of him. Dad and a buffalo statue. Seems fitting.
