Absent From Life (On Loss)

On September 13th, 2016 my father died. 

When filling out his death certificate, my uncle and I were at a loss to fill in one section... his occupation. After a brief back and forth I suggested adventurer, as I felt it encapsulated him best. We were told that was not an option, and so settled on art dealer, which he was briefly and concretely.

My father was a man of secrets, occupations included, most of which are gone with him. For every revelation he entrusted to me, I am certain there was at least three times as many he kept to himself. If I asked about his past, he would go quiet, refusing to share a thing. 

But when the contemplative mood struck him, usually during a game of double-deck solitaire, he would start to talk. 

About meeting the king of the gypsies in Sao Paolo.

About unknowingly driving around Nagorno Karapagh with an unexploded artillery shell in the back seat.

About his teenage adventures on the streets of Beirut. 

And more. And not enough.

A few months prior to his death he had taken a trip abroad. While there his health sharply declined, coming back weak, unable to walk... unable to even hold his head up. 

When I think of my father; when I conjure his image in my imagination;  I do not see the strong, energetic and powerful man of my youth. 

I am haunted by the meek figure that he became at the end of his life. 

The memories of the last few months are fresh, and I was with him almost every day from the day he came back to the day he passed. I'm finding it hard to push beyond, to summon the image of the man I knew, remember his stories, and have him be they way he was. 

But I will admit to not trying to hard; thinking about him makes me cry almost instantly. 

There is a strange emptiness now that lies between logic and hope. Almost every day I have a moment where I believe it was all a dream, quickly readjusting that foolish notion with the reality of his loss; reasserting the knowledge that never again will he ever utter a word, or offer advice, or simply be around as he had been my entire life.

Libarid Setrak Libaridian, absent from life...