Revisited Doodle # 25

April 12th is a date that tends to throw me for a bit of a loop. Unfortunately this is even more true this year.
Sixteen years ago today was Easter Sunday of 1998. It was also the same day that I received a phone call that changed my life. I lost my father that day.
Today, sixteen years later, I had to watch my cousin bury his father (my uncle). So to say that today has been difficult is an understatement. It was as if I was reliving that pain all over again, but as an outsider, looking in--- watching my cousin's daughter mourn for her beloved grandfather, and my cousin ache to hear his father's laugh again. Not to mention watching my aunt sob over the death of her beloved. All of this hitting far too close to home, thinking of how my mother wept for my father that Sunday in April. 

Usually this time of year, I am in Michigan, celebrating my father's memory with my remaining family and friends that are there. However this year (for obvious reasons along with others unspoken), I stayed in Tennessee. I had originally intended on immersing myself with volunteering at work along with other means of positive indulgence with friends, but those plans changed. So I decided that I would spend some time doing one of the things that I enjoyed doing with my father--- art. I came to my favorite Starbucks location and set out to get lost in my work. With the occasional visit from my Starbuctians (the staff at Rivergate Starbucks will never know how much I appreciate their friendly faces, kind words and infectious laughter), I got lost in my work.  A moment of solitude in honor of the man that hung the moon for me.


I am fascinated at the idea of how much my father would have loved how far technology has come. I say that because I remember when I was a child, telling my dad how much I wanted to become a cartoonist. He insisted that I had better learn computers because "sooner rather than later, it'll all be the computers making the art". I remember being so angry at him for saying this, thinking that there was no way a computer could replace the pen strokes that a human being can create! But with age comes wisdom, and now I understand what he was trying to say to little naive me. The point was that technology would be utilized more so than it was before--- not replacing the animators themselves but being another way the animators animated/created art. 

I am truly my father's daughter, obsessed with technology to a fault. My checking account can voucher for that, I assure you. 

I miss him. I feel that goes without saying. There are times where I feel cheated, especially this time of year when my flesh is the weakest. I just wished I could have had the opportunity to know the man that was my father as an adult. The memories of him that I have were only until I was fourteen, so I was still too young for him to share his life story with me. It is because of this that I find myself being envious of those that knew him longer than I had the chance to. I do find peace with it, though, knowing that I was only meant to have him for the time that I did. But that doesn't make my heart stop yearning for more. 


Perhaps I'll dream of his smile tonight...