Happy Father's Day Abba

How I wish you were here today Abba. I've been thinking of all the things I still want to do with you and share with you. Every time I use my tool set you gave me when I moved into my house, I see the note you wrote on it. I remember coming home to see it on my doorstep, near the mazuza you put on my door post (so thoughtfully matching the paint on my house). When I go to golden gate park, I think about wanting to ride my bike with you. Remember the date we had a few years ago, when you felt too ill but drove all the way down from Diamond Springs anyway to be with me? I took care of you and you told me I had a healing touch. And the next day we went to the sea cliff and walked around. In the restaurant where we had brunch, there was an irish family sitting next to us. I remembered that when I took Rob and Nate to that same brunch spot and again, there was another Irish family sitting near by.

Remember our last date together on Christmas Eve? I know you wanted to go to the Nutcracker with me (you had a newspaper clipping of it on the fridge a year earlier). For you it was something to do with your little girl and made you think of me that way. But no longer a little girl, I wanted something more entertaining. We saw A Christmas Carol instead. And it was really good! I don't know if you were disappointed at first or not, but you seemed to really enjoy it. I'm still thrilled that we went to the Indian restaurant on Jones St. I swear its the best in the city. I wanted to take you there for so long because I knew you loved spicy food. That was the last time I saw you alive. After that, only emails, voice messages and phone calls connected us through our busy lives. Now the voice messages are gone and you can no longer call me. And i can no longer call you back. I tried to save your voice messages to me but they were erased by the phone company before I could save a copy. So all I have left of your voice now is your out-going message from your cell phone recorded here: http://quietamerican.org/download/dropbox/For_Sara/SARAT04.WAV

I miss you so much Abba. God how pissed off I am that you left me! Did you know I had a whole weekend planned to hang out with you the day you left? I wanted to share all my wedding plans with you. I wanted you to get caught up in the joy of it all too, hoping it might lift you out of your own sorrow. My therapist says knowing I was getting married must have meant you knew your little girl would be ok and would be taken care of. But didn't you know that I still needed you too? I still need my Abba. I love you so much. I will always be your little saralala, your te-no-kit. Thank you so much for being my dad.
-Sara