By then we lived in different apartments with my father for about ten years already. The apartments were pretty close to each other so my dad used to come over from time to time or we would come to him. My mom and dad always loved each other, it’s just my dad was a drinker wouldn’t say a very heavy one but still that made life with him impossible, other than that I think I had an example of true love no matter what in front of my eyes from my parents. Anyway my own love to him was a little or very much confusing even for me. He was my dad and what’s then?
I knew he was getting ill. It was his usual stomach problem that he had for many years by then. He came into our apartment to solve the problem with an electrical socket or something. He didn’t look good, he looked tired with his face getting all dark yellow from gall spreading over his body. He looked sad at me and I just didn’t like when he was coming over. I certainly had some childhood wounds that I probably couldn’t get over and I guess seeing him made it even harder. I think then I wished not to see him at all. We were getting pretty far from each other, I don’t think we had anything to talk about at all. He told me then “Health is the most important thing. Nothing matters if you don’t have health” I said “yeah…yeah…” He repaired the socket and went away. That was the last time I ever saw him.
He got into the hospital for an operation several days later. My mom was there all the time seeing after him, she borrowed money for operation, blood and etc. They didn’t live with each other for more than 10 years but he was the closest person to her, the love of her life. Something went wrong because of his diabetes, the cells of his organism stopped recognizing the food, he went into coma. From the day of the operation it went on for 2 months. I never saw him in the hospital. One day my mom came home and told me he was dead. I didn’t know what I felt, I think I was ready. The only thing I knew that I can’t allow myself to feel anything as my mom will, I thought maybe some time later I will, when her sorrow will be less painful…
I remember when our dog that we had for 17 years died, all three of us were sitting on our dogs little carpet drinking beer remembering her, we loved that dog so much. And my dad said quietly “I don’t know if you died would I be as sorrowful as this”.
At his funeral while I was looking at his dead body lying in the coffin mother of one of his school friend’s, an old lady came up to me and said ” How beautiful he is! Well, he always was beautiful, but here he’s just beautiful!” Isn’t that creepy? I mean what I can I say I guess my dad was a really beautiful man.
A couple of days later he came to me in a dream. He was a little drunk, unshaved and in a weird mood. He sat in front of me and said ” So what should I do now? Where should I go?” and I said “Are you crazy? Now you can be anywhere, you can go any place you want! You’re free!”
About a year later I left to study filmmaking in Los Angeles. I had another dream one night just at the beginning of my stay there. A glade somewhere in the woods full of sunlight with a chair right in middle of it. My dad took me by the hand and sat me in that chair standing behind me. I think the woods were my dad’s favorite place.