This I Believe

Jamie - Boise, Idaho
Entered on March 6, 2009

That is so Cool

I always knew he would ask. He has one grandpa, my husband’s father. I knew one day, he would ask about mine.

My father died when I was seventeen. I found him in the back bedroom of our home on a Monday morning in late October. Heart-attack at fifty-one. I thought it was the last time I would see his beautiful blue eyes.

My dad was one of the smartest men I have ever met. His wit pierced, his laughter tickled, and his smile stole your heart. He loved me from a distance, not knowing how to hold me and touch me. In this distance, though, his pride for me rang true, and when I succeeded, so did he. When we shined together, I never knew the world could be so wonderful. When he was taken from me, I never knew the world could be so ugly. I thought I would never witness such beauty again.

My son was born June 1, 2005. Cosmo James Lange. James, my dad’s name. He runs to our dog Buster with angst, the sweetness of his love for this dog buzzes as they play. He sings to me his letters and asks me if I like his song, and I tell him it is magic. He sees airplanes in the sky before I do, and he tells me the moon is bootiful and that the stars are his friends. He picks grass and asks me why it is green and I tell him because the sun and the chemicals in the grass combine to create color. He asks me why, I tell him I do not know, and he asks me if it is magic. I answer, “maybe.” He reaches for my hand when we cross the street yet jumps into the 5 ft. deep water pool at the YMCA, I ask him why and he says, “You are so funny, Jamie.” And I guess I am.

“Jamie, where is your dad?” He questioned me from the back seat of the car, as we were driving on the freeway. I was not prepared. I did not know what to say, because I did not know the answer for myself. I looked at him in the rearview mirror and saw something I had not seen before. His blue eyes twinkled into my soul, deep currents running in my blood, and I had my answer.

I pointed to my window, the passenger window, his window, and the windshield, “He’s there, he’s there, he’s there, and he’s there,” I said.

Cosmo followed my hands with his eyes, “Is he in the sky too?”

I looked back at him as tears poured down my face, “Yeah buddy, he is, he is in the sky, he is everywhere, loving you from afar.”

He smiled at me and I turned forward, “Is he here, with me?”

In all my life, I have never been given such a definitive answer in a question, and I had to pause, breathe and say, “Yes, he is with you. He is always with you.” Before I could let my heart break he said, “That is so cool, Jamie, that is so cool.”

And he was right, I believe it is so cool that my dad lives in my son, and my son lives in my dad, and that somehow, I get them both. I get them both.