My Dad on the Balcony
Then you were gone!
My dad felt emotionally numb long before he died, as his soul seemed to wait a long time to be set free.
So, his soul protested like a senseless teenager and desperately asked to be liberated from its sick body, probably from the obligations that came with it.
I always picture you, Dad, on the balcony, legs crossed, the scent of cleanliness around you, dressed in gray slacks and a wool sweater, shoes shining, gazing into the distance yet seeing nothing. Your eyes seemed to plead, silently begging for release, and upon noticing me, you would gather a hollow smile. I doubted its sincerity, questioning your happiness at my presence, yet appreciated the gesture. Your eyes betrayed your anguish, revealing a soul eager to be free.
The soul aborted the mission; it was enough; it needed to rest!
Then you were gone! I can imagine it was a joyful day for you when God at last gave your soul permission to leave and join your world, your beloved ones.
Something, or someone, was missing from your life, a void your soul ached to fill. You had longed for release, and now, as I envision you, I sense your joy, a genuine smile of relief.
You are no longer the man on the balcony; you are the angel smiling at me from wherever he is. His smile is so sincere that it radiates happiness, devotion, and protection towards me.
Rest In Peace, my beloved dad, forever.
Dana Obeid