secrets

Okay, So I have never talked about this.  Not out loud at least.  I talk about it in great detail privately.  Deep inside the multiple layers of my very complicated brain.  But since I find writing to be a cleansing of my soul.  I think its finally time to try to figure out why the hell  I am such a whack job.

The earliest memories of my father are great ones.  A powerful man.  A man of value, hard work and dedication.  My memory is in black and white.  Even Sepia at times.  He is handsome.  A cross between Walt Disney and Vincent Price.  A real actor. A Brooklyn boy.  An amazing brother.  A loving dad and a generous husband.

I wanted for nothing.  I was his golden child.   I could do no wrong. I was his gift and he was my dad.

He was tall with silver hair. Perfectly coiffed at all times. He wore immaculate 3 piece suits with silk ties.  He was encrusted with gold chains and a Leo the Lion medallion. A large Star of David shined proudly across his chest.  Thick bracelet's that Mr. T would envy.  Rings dripping with diamonds. He wore the finest cologne and drove the sharpest car.  A hard working man. Full of integrity.  Covered with pride.

 Yep- He was somebody- to everybody.  He would walk into a restaurant and they would shout "The God Father is here!"  (No gangsta'- just pretend)  He was a big man.  A generous man.  A kind man that would never meet a stranger.  He would tell you that you were beautiful.
You would believe.
 He would make you think you were perfect. He was strong and brave and I loved him.

He was my dad.

Irving Zelig Herman

I. Zel for short.

He was a mystery.  A Hollywood looking character with a past that we could not touch or even see.

I had love, admiration and respect for him.  He was my father. I was his everything.

I wish I told him.
I wish I said it.
I wish I
I wish
I....

The mind is an amazing thing.  It can remember only what you wish.  Erase what you want to go away.  It keeps memories locked away until you are ready to open. Buried right under your skin.
Buried for only you to know they are there. Itching at the surface. Bubbling to the top. Creating who you really are. Slowly molding you into yourself.  Buried but not gone.  Hidden but not forever.

The end came before I was ready.

Maybe you are never ready.

His shell was missing.  The costume and masks were all gone.
 One day he was a man from the big screen.  The next I blinked and he was a mere skeleton. Almost unrecognizable. 
Yet- only for his eyes.
He had amazing electric eyes. Nate's eyes.  Crystal blue.  Like looking into a magnificent ocean. But they no longer held hope.  They were gaunt and gone.

Cancer.

It is such an ugly fucking disease.
It was over quicker than it started. No more dreams.  No more memories. No more "good nights" or "it will all be okay." 
It wasn't okay.

My pain is still raw. Close to the surface like the seeds in a pomegranate.  Ready to bleed at any moment.

I have a choice.  Its all I took from that time. Its all that I wanted from that time.

TO LIVE.
LIVE TO THE FULLEST.
LIVE LOUD
LIVE BRAVE
LIVE LIKE A FUCKING ROCK STAR IF I WANT TO.
BUT LIVE.

I wear the tattoo. Scarred into my soul.   Branded.
It can all end before you even realize that it started.

 No second chances.

No dress rehearsals.

 Just one shot.

\

Live every moment as if it is your last.

Sing even if you don't know the words.
Dance without any rhythm.
Embrace the cold and rejoice in the sun.
Savor the taste and try something new.

Be someone worth knowing.

Do something.
Choose to be happy.
Just tell them you love them.

No second chances.