I just finished watching the movie, “The Fault In Our Stars”. It immediately brought back feelings of when my Dad died, at the unexpected and premature age of 78.
This movie, based on the novel by John Green, is absolutely wrenching.; heartfelt, loving, in-the-moment-kind of storytelling, the kind that tugs…no, wrenches your heart. There is no way this relatively unknown film can NOT pull at your heart strings.
And personally, why would such a flick hold so much resonance for me?
Well, because my Dad—my father—died four years ago.
“Yeah, big deal, he died, Paul. Get over it.” “It’s been four years. Geesh!” Yes, that may be the outlook of certain siblings. One of indifference, of complacency, of “…who the hell cares? He’s gone! Deal with it.”
Yeah. Deal with it. The death of my father, my Dad. My Beloved father who I love so much still. Still, after four years.
Still does he speak to me.
I miss him terribly.
I miss you, Dad.
I love you.