As Long As I Remember

It’s not like it was unexpected. I saw it coming a mile away. Hell, ten miles if I’m honest. There was some shock of course. A loss like that will always flatten everything around it but to say I wasn’t prepared and waiting for it would be completely untrue.

The horn honking snapped me back into reality and I waved sheepishly at the driver behind me to apologize as I drove on. I guess I hadn’t noticed when the red had turned back to flashing green and god knows how long I sat there staring into space.

“You’ll be fine.” He said grabbing my hand and pulling me up. He seemed to be ten feet tall and not just because I was a smaller than average seven-year-old. He wiped the tears out of my eyes.

“Falling is the best! It’s a great way to find out just how good you are at getting back up.” He smiled so broadly it seemed as though his mouth would swallow his head. I sniffled and tried to turn away but his grin was magnetic. It sucked you in.

“I’m just, I’m just never going to be able to do it.” I pouted as I cast my eyes towards the ground the slackline waving in the breeze behind me. Looking back on it now it was probably no more than eighteen inches off the ground and hardly a fall at all but I was and remain something of a drama queen. Eventually he had me smiling again. He could always do that.

To be fair, I was always an emotional person and even more so as a child. Little things would bother me more than most people. I remember my father using a skill saw as he cut some wood to repair the old rotting deck in the back of that god forsaken farmhouse, the sound of it, the shriek was so high pitched and terrifying, it hit me like an electric shock and I just ran. I was hiding in the shed when I heard the blade stop. He called my name, not overly concerned but never the less needing an answer. Hiding there behind that huge bench with my hands hard over my ears I could hear him but I pretended I couldn’t. Maybe it was the shame of being so afraid.

“Hello, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pushed open the door of the shed a bit more to reveal what he knew was there, a skinny child hiding in the dark.

“I wasn’t scared. I just wanted to hide for a bit.”

“Oh for sure, that’s what I figured. Well, I can do that later if you want. I’ve got quieter stuff I can do first.” He was so understanding. I’ll miss that.

As assisted living communities go, Tall Cedars is not a bad place. It’s about as nice as you can get for a sort of old person prison. As a rule, I hated the idea of places like that. I know they’re necessary and had by then indeed resigned myself to the fact that he would live out the rest of life more in the company of strangers than family but it still rubbed me the wrong way. Often the right thing is wrong and the wrong thing appears to make the most sense but there was no other way. I tried for a few months to care for him and all but soon my wife and son understandably had enough of four people in an apartment barely big enough for three.

The indicator ticked as I pulled the long sweeping right hand turn into the parking lot. Out there, in the country was a better place after all. He loved the country all his life. I suppose most of the callouses on his hands came from that farm, even though we weren’t much for growing things we always had something from the garden on our table. This wass the right place. A long drive, far too much time to daydream and wander back into the past but the right place none the less.

So many time I wished I could remember my mother. In case he asked you know. What was she like? What did her voice sound like? What did her skin feel like? Being born in a generation where cameras were at best for special occasions and home video was something only those featured by Robin Leech could afford, left me at a disadvantage when looking backwards. He only talked about her suicide once.

“Your mother, after you kids were born, it was hard. At the time, I mean, we didn’t, well I didn’t, it just wasn’t a thing, we didn’t really talk about it and well, I guess, I dunno, something, I guess…” He closed his eyes tightly. The fire giving his face an unworldly orange hue.

“I do know, without a doubt, that she loved you more than anything. Both of you. She never would have gone if she didn’t have to. I don’t think she could find another way is all. She wasn’t weak though. Strongest person I’ve ever known.”

He never said another word about it. I was only three when it happened, my brother was not much older and so we are left here with just an idea of who she was.

The doors slid open with a familiar whoosh and I walked in. It’s one of those places you don’t have to sign in or anything. Well, I didn’t. I’d been there so much I may as well have been on staff. I don’t know if he would have noticed if I missed a day here or there. I would've though. So, I went there, every day I could and sat with him.

I was secretly kind of glad he’d slipped so much. Only because it meant he didn't really know where he was or why he was there most of the time. A younger version of the man would have been insulted and humiliated to but the fight all but left him when he got into his seventies. It’d only been nine months and he’d taken to it pretty well. Although when he came in, he was struggling already so there wasn’t much independence left. I am glad of this too, that he got to a place where he could no longer remember enough to take insult at his predicament.

218. His room number was sort of poetic. My wife and I got married February 18th and so when we got the room assignment, I laughed a little. He didn’t know why and pretended to understand when I explained it but I know it was lost on him. Pushing open that door was harder every day. Not knowing who’s on the other side anymore. That was like playing the worst game show ever.

He looked up from his bed and covered his face a bit when I came in. I closed the door so the light from behind me wouldn’t strain his tired eyes.

“Hello?” You could tell by the tone he didn’t know who I was. We were here now. The day before had been the day I had been fearing most. The day he just didn’t know me anymore. The day I became a stranger. I knew it was coming but hoped that maybe today he would see me again. His face made it clear I was an unknown. He was calm though. He was always calm.

“Hi dad.” His eyes went back and forth over my face like the fingers of a blind man feeling features. My heart sank. Then for one moment he fixed right on my eyes. We said a hundred things in that second. I’ll feel that forever. It was him.

He smiled. It wasn’t the smile I was used to but even an echo of it was cause for relief. Dad was in there. That was the last time I saw him. His body gave in eighteen months later. Those will forever be the worst eighteen months of my life. He was never there again after that smile but I kept hoping for one more goodbye. That goodbye never came.

I remember him everywhere. Not those last few months but everything before. All of it, as much as I can. The memories sneak up on you. Washing dishes, walking the dog, in a quiet elevator. You’re powerless against them and I’ve learned I don’t even want to fight them anymore. No matter how much of an interruption they may be. With that in mind please let me apologize should you ever be stuck behind me at a green light, I'm still trying to find out just how good I am at getting back up.