“We were talking a while ago” , her eyes searched my face.
“About papa”, I said. She had asked me where he was. I said he wasn’t here just now.
“Yes”, she nodded. and smiled, her chain of thought had reconnected.
“I loved him so much” , she said. “He was always in my corner. He would fight for me”.
Those words had never crossed her lips before. At least, never in my presence.
“I’ve never heard you say that before”, I said. “You’ve only always talked about what a pain in the ass he was” I said, as those words left me, it felt like a reflex action.
“You both were a pain in the ass to each other”, I quickly interjected. as a correction. I am shocked to hear there was love there.
“He did tell me that he loved you” , she seemed as surprised to hear it, just as I was way back when he said it.
In all the years I’ve been on this earth, all I’ve ever seen between these two was fighting. At times, it felt like they were fighting to the death. In my young mind I wondered what would happen to me and my sisters and brother if one of them killed the other.
Now here she sits, in a confused state laced with moments of clarity, professing her love for my father who no longer among the living. I didn’t have the heart to tell her this earlier, today of all days. It was Fathers Day. And she was treading the waters of unfinished business.