A Bittersweet Father's Day

This year was Aaron's first father's day. While I enjoyed spending the day honoring him (and I even had his favorite beer shipped to him as you can't buy it East of the Mississippi- I am an awesome wife!!) it was a really, really hard day for me.

I haven't spoken publicly about this, as it has been so difficult to process and heal, but this was my first father's day without my Pepe. Pepe died on Memorial Day. He died 5 days after Toby was born. Many of you know that he was, arguably, my very favorite person in the whole world. I fully believe Pepe waited for Toby's birth before he passed.

Below is the last picture I took of him. It was taken May 6th when I brought him out for his 90th birthday. Normally, I would drive to Portland AT LEAST once per month to visit with him and take him out to lunch. This particular day I brought him on a picnic at Fort Williams, a place where he used to bring me every summer when I was younger. When I dropped him off at his condo after the picnic we had the following conversation:

P: Can you write down the baby's name on this piece of paper for me?
J: Yes, of course (writing down Tobias "Toby" Herbert Molloy).
P: (smiling) He has my name as his middle name.
J: (teary) Yes, of course. You know why. (this wasn't a question)
P: I know. I do you too, Dear.

P: When do you think he'll be born?
J: Well, his due date is May 30th.
P: But when do you think that latest is that he will come? If you had to guess?
J: Oh, I would say he'd be here by May 26th, if I HAD to guess.
P: Write that down for me, okay?

When my Mom went to see him a couple of weeks later he still had the piece of paper; he showed it to her. He was already seriously declining. The Friday after I gave birth my Mom went to see him and showed him pictures of Toby. She said he was really happy. Three days later he was gone.

I am so grateful that I had such a wonderful man in my life. He meant the world to me. He inspired me and he taught me more about life than anyone else has to date. When I think of Pepe, I always think of two things. One, a seahorse. Male Seahorses are the ones who carry, birth and raise their young. He made me who I am today. He was my seahorse. Second, I think of an anchor. He was my anchor; because of him I will never go adrift.

Pepe never told me he loved me. He would never say "I love you." In the last few years of his life, the thought of him slipping away from me became so painful that neither of us would often say "I love you" I'd simply say, "Hey, Pepe... you know what?" and he'd say, "Yes, Dear. I do you too."

My son carries the name of a great man. I am so happy that Pepe was able to hear of the birth of his namesake before he slipped away.

The the last thing I whispered to him when I kissed him goodbye at his funeral?

"I do you too, Pepe."

And I do. I will. Forever.