The Last Time

I've been dreading writing this entry, but it's something I need to do, especially today.

2 months ago I saw my dad for the last time.

It was at Chef Mickey's character breakfast at the Contemporary. We had a really long wait for our tables, and everyone was cranky, including me. I was exhausted from the wedding day, excited to stay at the Grand Floridian for the first time, and I had no idea I would never see my dad again. No idea. (How could I have?) We didn't even sit at the same table.

I had told him prior to my wedding that I wasn't going to spend the day with him on the 7th. That I only got one honeymoon, and I didn't want to spend it with my dad. (My dad had a habit of, how can I put this nicely... being kind of clingy.) He ended up spending most of the day with my friend Becky and her mom, and he had a great time. Rumor has it he even liked the Haunted Mansion, my favorite ride.

He didn't hug me goodbye. Just fist bumped me. Which is oddly appropriate.

If I had known, I would have done things differently. Of course I would have. I would have spent the entire day with him and shown him the Walt Disney World I love so much. I would have said a proper goodbye, and I would have told him that I love him. If I had known, I would have begged him to do something, anything to change Fate, so that I didn't have to go through this; so my grandparents didn't have to go through this.

But I didn't know. And sometimes, just sometimes, it is so difficult not to live in a sea of regret and wishes; an ocean of would haves.