February 2016
Quickly passes another month, another year. Memories of my Father on the 10th anniversary of his death followed by the 81st anniversary of his birth. I miss you, Dad. My depression, fatigue, responsibilities and distance always kept a wall between me and the world and a curtain between me and those I love. I understand as a loved one’s mortality is evident as that loved one is slowly dying one’s own inner defenses can blunt the emotions.

I wasn’t connecting in your final days even though we saw each other most weekends when we would visit you at the nursing home. You had a need to bridge a gap and I couldn’t bridge that gap. As time has passed I think I understand you better. As my depression became treated more effectively I could see how similar we were then and now.

Your selfimage seemed strong when I was growing up and I wished I could have been that type of man. Now I understand you wanted to be that type of man as well. You were more outgoing than I was but I see I have been able to be that outgoing in the years since you passed away.

Little things said as well as silence come to mind. You were as insecure as I have been in adulthood. Your father abandoning the family in your childhood must have shaped your self-esteem. I don’t know if you ever forgave him. I know you didn’t like the name he gave your.

I wish you could have known the strength of your name. Trenton: refering to the river Trent in England.  Caswell: a well near where the watercress grows which I have also seem refering to a strong well of good water. You thought your alcoholic father and his drinking buddies saddled you with an odd name. Perhaps that is why you went safe with my name. I try to present a good image to the world of the name you gave me. My first name which the world made me use since I entered public school as well as our family name. I cherish though the middle name you always called me by and which Mom, my siblings (and their spouses), my nieces and relatives on your side of the family still call me.

Peace and love, Dad. I am not sure what I believe about what comes after this life but I will cherish your memory while I am alive. May we meet again in some positive form.
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