He shakes his head, wiping away the tears cascading down her cheeks with his thumbs as he cocks his head to the side.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but my biggest regret will always be failing you,” he confesses.
“You didn’t fail me, Daddy,” she cries. “I know that now,” she whispers.
“I couldn’t let you go,” he explains. “I didn’t know how to, I couldn’t accept you weren’t my little girl anymore.”
He tucks her hair behind her ear and grants her a bittersweet smile.
“But that isn’t so now, is it? You’ll always be my little girl, won’t you?”
“Always,” she assures.
He pulls back and glances over his shoulder toward me, extending his hand and willing me with his gaze to join them. I close the distance between us as Adrianna drops her hands from his face and my dad grabs a hold of my hand and pulls me into the crook of his arm. With both me and my sister stuck to him like glue, he showered the top of our heads with kisses before choking out the words I’ll always remember.
“You’re both Daddy’s little girls and always will be even in eternity,” he utters. His thin arms squeezing us tightly against his sides. “I love you both with my whole heart and all I ask is that you never forget that.”
Anthony and Mikey move to the back of the room as Dad guides us to the table, pulling out our chairs and tucking our legs beneath the table before he walks around and takes a seat on the opposite end. He reaches across and takes one hand from each of us and holds onto our hands for dear life.
He insists we have all done enough crying and wants us to make the most of our time together. He starts with me, giving me his undivided attention as he sets his intent gaze on me and makes me recall every detail of my doctor’s visit. I tell him about my diagnosis and my plan of action. I explain the surgery to him and tell him I will most likely have difficulty having children.
I see the unmistakable forlorn look in his eyes and I smile back at him.
“I’m okay, Dad. Mikey and I discussed it and we’re not even sure we want kids but if we decide we do, well, he’d move Heaven and Earth to give me whatever I want. I’m going to have a great life.” I promise him, my voice cracking as I say the words.
“That you are,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair as he glances over our shoulders at the two men who claimed our hearts. “I don’t think I could’ve picked two better men for the two of you,” he says thoughtfully, returning his warm eyes back to us. “I remember your First Holy Communion,” he recalls, speaking to my sister. “Val and I joked that you and Michael would one day end up married,” he laughs, turning his gaze to me. “Yet you’re the one who will become a Valente.”
“Pastore-Valente,” I correct.
“That makes me proud and I’m sure wherever Val and Maryann are they’re smiling down too,” he says with a wink.
He turns back to Adrianna.
“Anymore grandbabies in the future?”
“Probably one more,” she says. “If it’s a girl her name will be Frankie and if it’s a boy Anthony Jr.,” she informs him so grandpa knows the names of any future Bianci children.
“Paint me a picture, girls,” he requests. It was one of his favorite sayings, a staple in our childhood memories. He closes his eyes, as he did so many times throughout the years, and asks us to show him the future, one he won’t be a part of.
We tell him our dreams, our hopes for what may come. We vow to always take care of our mom and keep the traditions they instilled in us alive. There was no shortage of tears and the love between a father and his daughters was very much alive and always would be.
With life comes death. Sometimes you don’t see it coming, sometimes you have time to prepare for it but either way it leaves you raw and wondering how your life will go on without those who made your life have meaning. It will be hard, they’ll be days I’ll cry, days I’ll sit at the cemetery and talk to a stone, days I’ll look up to the heavens and wish for a sign. But, life will go on for me and my sister and sometimes we’ll feel guilty or wish he was here. The world will still turn with our father’s love forever alive in our hearts.
“Use the Long Island house,” Dad says in-between coughing and struggling for breath. “Create memories just like we used to when you were kids.”