cinco

Dear Dad,
Well it’s five years now since you vanished. I’m not sure I like the word “vanished” there, but I was thinking about it after I just wrote it, and something about it seems to fit. After all what does it mean to vanish, really? When I think of something vanishing I think of a magic trick, an illusion, a trick on the mind. In a flash the coin appears from behind your ear, then vanishes out of sight again! And yet inside you know it’s just a trick, an illusion, a surface level phenomenon. You know the coin is still here, somewhere, you just can’t see it. It’s a trick. You don’t die, you vanish from sight. But that which you are, your principals, your examples, your family, is very much still here. Maybe it’s childish of me to keep making analogies like this, but maybe it’s not. I still feel like I know you’re still here, somewhere, just like that coin. Just because I can’t see you, you vanished, doesn’t mean I really think you can make something true disappear. I don’t trust my senses that much. That’s one of the things I’ve learned a little bit more of these past five years. Truth is not limited by my limited senses.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel today, same as the last four August 18th’s, so in way things are the same. But in a bigger and more profound way, this year’s different, Dad. I feel better about things. I feel more assured in my faith that there is a perfectly hidden, perfectly perfect order to all things. Even those things I can’t understand, or see, myself. Why this year? I see a lot of good things in motion.
I’m sure you know Brooks is getting married next month to someone I’m sure you would like. They really seem to understand each other, they communicate well, she makes him happy, he makes her happy, it’s a good team. Brooks just got into a graduate program too. You’d like to see him like this Dad.
I’m sure you also know Mom found herself a worthy suitor and she’s getting married in May. I’m think you’d like him too, Dad. Really. Five years ago that sentence wouldn’t make any sense, but life goes on. You taught me that. He’s a good old boy from Georgia and I know you have soft spot for good old boys. He’s smart, puts his family first, love’s the outdoors. He’s even got Mom living on the top of a mountain! He’s not you, of course, nobody’s kidding themselves. But like I said, I think you’d like him. He makes Mom happy, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.
Since you know all this I’m sure you know I fell in love too, Dad. See how good things are in motion? She’s got a wonderful heart, she light’s up the room, and she’s brave. When the going gets tough she looks only for the best of things. It’s inspiring. I think she reminds me a lot of Mom to tell you the truth, except she’s Brazilian. Yup, Brazilian, Dad. I kind of wish I could see the look on your face right now to tell you the truth. When her Grandmother met Mom this summer, even though she only spoke Portuguese and Mom only spoke English, she told her that Mom was seemed to be just like a girl still, full of life and sweetness. You know the way Mom manages to be both a girl and a woman at the same time? Of course you know. My love, she is the same way. Dad, you’d be really happy to see me like this, too.
So though I still don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, I know how I feel this year, which is different, and I feel some really good things coming. I know I miss you terribly, and every once in a while I still let myself imagine for a moment how different things would be if you were still here, but I don’t do it too often. I use my mental juice on other things, like the present. my faith in the unbreakably good invisible order of things is strong. It is what it is, you know? I know you know.
So this is the year I want to tell you that in the wake of inspiration you left behind, and the gifts of grace we all seem to be bestowed with, we’re doing pretty good, Dad. We’ve been taking it one day at a time, just like you said, and now checking in five years later we are all having some pretty great days again. We’ve met some great people I wish you could have met, so I do my best to introduce them to you by being the person you inspired me to be. You are still very much here, I see it more and more in my hands, and in Brooks. In Brooks I see you, and I see more and more of Brooks in me. I know it gets a little confusing with all this “knowing you know” going back and forth, but it feels good to tell you about it anyway, even if you do already know.

I love you Dad. See you at the weddings.
Cole

Ps. I think I found a picture of you with a moustache. Is that what that is? What are you, newlyweds?