I spent 4 days this week in NY. We drove by the apartment I had rented almost 1 year ago when Alicia wanted to check out colleges in Boston and NJ. As we drove by on the way to JFK, I recalled that week Cathie and Alicia came along. The apartment was great and the girls had a fun visit. For the most part, it was a pleasurable memory.
But during the flight home, I was crammed into a window seat in coach. When we were within 60 mins of landing, the memory of telling my dad that Alicia had died on that Sunday resurfaced. He kept saying how it should have been him instead of her. I clearly recall the strained tone of his voice, his crying and anguish. He passed out within 5 mins of the news. It was too much stress in his weak state. I could not get up, so I sat there and just cried by myself. I looked out the window and wondered if she was with me or at least looking down at me. What would she say? Maybe a one of her usual "Silly pops".
In the end, he was able to see Alicia before we will be able to see her again. For that, I am very sad.
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