March 11, 2025, in loving memory

Forgive me, Father, for the love in me for you was a silent ocean.

Silent, I say in retrospect, with the memory of my eyes, and ears; and silent as I know the ocean today – vibrant, beautiful, dangerous under the surface.

Asking for forgiveness is sadness in itself, as the ask inherently implies remorse for something that had every opportunity of being expressed much earlier. Yet, I was silent.

I ask for forgiveness from both of us, for it is fair to assume that the silence of that ocean on your part, was never as loud, and expressive, and explosive, as it could have been. I know you know. Your eyes, your ears could have been louder, wonderfully much louder.

And quietly loud were they, especially your eyes, looking at me, and looking away, those weeks leading to March of 2001.

In memory of my father (March 21 1931 – March 11 2001), today I share a short excerpt from a work in progress:

Papi’s Coffee
Recipes, Inquiries, and Fruits in letters to my father