Chapter 64

Watching pay-per-view wrestling and eating TV dinners, my dad and I had camped out in the living for three hours, eight to eleven, consuming every head butt, body slam, and clothesline.

Recollecting my father’s unbridled enthusiasm while spending time with me, watching our favorite “sport,” yelling back at the TV, rooting for our favorite wrestling personality, conveyed a sense of inseparability for me. Family was the most important thing. My dad was my mentor, my best friend. I confided in him when life was at its lowest and I needed guidance or someone to talk to.

I couldn’t call him anymore. I wouldn’t see him, or talk to him, or spend time with him watching TV, talking about life, ever again.

I’d miss his frankness, his candid smile, which made me feel like I was doing the right thing. I’d miss the way he’d slapped me on the leg after he finished lecturing me on the rights and wrongs of this complicated, crazy thing called life.