Several weeks ago my father passed away. About a month before that I went and saw him for what I knew would be the last time. As his last born child, brought into the world 18 years after his other children, I was his little girl. His health problems began when I was young and for the past 20 years I've been living on edge that the day would come.
At his prime, he stood 7 feet tall, he filled a room with his stature, voice, and copious personality. He was a natural born story teller and people seemed to flock around him for his sage advice and, honestly, his perverse sense of humor.
He lived a whole life before I was born. He grew up in Pasedena and truly was a rebel without a cause. He was active in California politics through the 60s and 70s. He had four children from his first marriage then was married to my mother for 34 years. Things were always difficult for all of us it seemed, him a life full of glory ended after a long decline, me as a child feeling the instability of a family balancing the negative effects of health problems. Despite him never being on his feet, he kept me grounded, he kept me sane amongst the chaos. I'll miss his voice the most.
The memorial this past weekend was a casual family party and I expected him to be there, sitting in his wheelchair, smoking a cigar, while he filled the room with his booming laugh.
Along with my mom and brothers and sisters we spread his ashes along the Bear River near Sacramento. It was a place I'd never been before, but where my siblings grew up and where he and my mom built their first house together. I felt lost.
Rather than driving the 8 hours straight home to San Diego, we took the long way home, south east through the Sequoia National Forest. We got a cabin for the night and hiked through the giant trees, feeling dwarfed by the beauty of it all and that feeling that we have no control over the course of nature.
Like the ancient towereing trees, my father was a mighty man. At times he stood tall, at times a lightning strike may have slowed him down, but he always remained hopeful with a sparkle in his big blue eyes.
