“A father is a friend, teacher, and guide who leads us through life with wisdom and love.” Plato
This week was my father's birthday. He would have turned 90 if he were alive. He passed away exactly 10 years ago. On these significant dates, the family WhatsApp group starts popping up with affectionate messages about his absence and how much we miss him. Old photos are retrieved, along with happy moments of him spending time with family and friends.
For a moment, I freeze and think about what I should write in the group to express how much I miss him. I can't find the words. At this moment, I realize how difficult it must be to write an epitaph that isn't cliché. I search for a verb, an idea that evokes a thought. A kind of speech in a few words. I don't want soothing phrases that give way to reflective silence tending toward emptiness and conveying a sense of finitude.
No child would want to give a father whom they have loved for many decades the impression that it is over.
I know that death is not necessarily the end. There are days when the absent one appears with unusual stubbornness, repeats old jokes, laughs with excitement, and gives a loving, furtive glance. There are moments when it seems possible to say something that he will hear and respond to. I often find myself reminiscing with other family members and friends about how he would behave today, especially when watching Flamengo in 2019, or about memorable moments that we always enjoy hearing about, even if repeatedly.
So how am I going to convey all of this in a sentence, an emoji, a GIF, or a WhatsApp sticker?
My father gave me life and taught me that you have to seek it in others until you become someone else. Now he lives on in others, because it is others who guarantee his existence, with their memories and their unheard-of affection. His friendships were so remarkable that it is as if the world truly loved him. That's a nice epitaph.
A father is always more than just a child's gaze. He is a man with vast experience and unconditional love, who for a long time is our reference point in life. Later, our memories of him cleanse our souls and purify our blood. I feel that this is what brings me peace: seeking loving foundations for my memories, forgetting for a moment the sordid and gloomy world of today.
I couldn't find the words to respond to the group message, but I take comfort in the memory that he was always the family's safe haven. He was the person everyone turned to with their problems and who, without any self-interest, did not shy away from dedicating himself body and soul to solving or comforting others.
My life has been marked by adversity, which has shaped me into a reserved person. He helped me through very difficult times, such as the early loss of my best friend and the death of my newborn son. Unfortunately, he was unable to be present during other painful moments. His absence was deeply felt, but compensated for by my friends—few, it is true—and by the strength and unity of my family.
If I could say something to him now, I would say this: Without you, Dad, it would have been more difficult. Thank you.
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