Today is my dad’s 68th birthday. Every year since my brother passed away, it’s hard for me to think about my dad’s birthday without thinking about my brother’s death and the fact that he’s not here. When I spoke with my primary care doctor two months ago about my dad’s heart surgery, she told me that because of the double bypass, he pretty much has a brand new heart with new vessels and should be good for at least another decade or even three if he takes good care of himself. If I were a parent, how would I feel knowing that I would outlive my son by over three decades?

I always wonder what my dad really thinks about his son’s death, if he ever looks back and wonders if he could have said something more, criticized less, spent more time with him and nurtured him. I wonder if he ever has regrets that he just refuses to share with us, or even worse, refuses to reveal to himself. It’s difficult to navigate the mind of someone who is so emotionally removed and stoic almost all the time. It will always be one of those eternal mysteries that lingers in the back of my own mind.