Father's Day
It's late. Far too late for her to be up. Five hours, maybe? Not enough sleep but at some point the red wine and baba ganouj took over from the desire to crawl into bed. She survived it, though. Eight months of dread, knowing that this day would inevitably come and she'd be inundated with all kinds of reminders that he was really gone. A day for him and he was no longer here to celebrate or be celebrated. Her first instinct this morning was to call him at home but then she remembered. Every day, it's a re learning, a remembrance of what is no longer here. The new normal. Still a daughter yet now an orphan. Jacquie tried to console herself with the fact that at least she didn't have to suffer the annual ritual of yet another family style restaurant rotisserie chicken dinner with dear old Da to celebrate Father's Day but right now at this very second she would give anything to be sitting across from him in a naughehyde booth complaining about how the fries used to be ...