Every year on September 9, I bow out of the world to be with my dad. Climb the mountain, hike through the forest, stay still by the ocean, looking at the stars, watching the sunrise, and count our blessings.
My blessings, actually; for it is his lessons that equipped me, his wisdom, his grace, his love, his respect of all living beings. For that one day I will look back and find him again: his kindness and protection of the weak, his generosity to the poor, his sense of justice that sent him to law enforcement, his dedication to the call of duty that eventually took him to the plain across.
For that one day I will walk through the life path we once shared: with laughter, with tears, with blood, fist in the air.
And when the next sun is rising, I will stand by him as we are back at the porch of my home, and send him off to the flaming horizon, with a promise that the next September 9 when we meet again, I am the better daughter he can be proud of.
But then, this cat was run over by car and left dying in the middle of rushing six-lanes road. I took her and rushed her to the vet clinic, waiting in line with her crying her pain and terror out loud.
The car crushed her spine, and she was paralyzed from the hip down. The vets are working on every possible way to get her strong enough to learn how to walk again, yet I have to be ready for a paraplegic cat in addition to walking the thin red line of running an overcrowded shelter. But one way or another, how can I provide with just two hands with overflowing jobs?
I reach home at four in the afternoon, and look back to an emerging dusk. I sat with her through the evening, until she calmed down and accept new friends who readily welcomed her and were trying their best to comfort her. I watch over her through the night, and prepare to defend her from any symptom of shock that might steal her life.
At the next dawn I looked away to the sparkling town down below, and see the sun rise.
I saw my dad walking away with his smile, waving his hand up high; back to his own place, until the next September 9.
Instead of me going to meet him, he came down to meet me. Instead of me walking with him, he walked with me. He stood by me, enlightened me. He lent me his calm, his patience, his grace, his wisdom. He lent me his kindness and protection of the weak, his generosity to the poor, and ultimately empowered me with his dedication to the call of duty that is the life we choose.
I waved back at that empty red sky.
This year I missed his birthday;
But the next September 9, I will be the better daughter he can be proud of.
Help me provide the best care and win a second chance for Patti: https://paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate