From the time I was a teenager, up until recently, my Dad’s parting expression to me was always: “Take it easy”
Back in my teens and into my twenties, when he would give me a ride to a party, or to school, or a friend’s house – before I would rush out of the car he would say, always with love and warmth in his voice, “Take it easy.”
To me it became his parting signature, whenever I would leave his presence he would say: “Take it easy”
Yesterday I found myself back in the hospital where my Dad died three months ago. I walked out of the hospital cafeteria where I had gone to do some business, and I found myself being pulled to visit the third floor where I had last seen him. Something just told me to go there, and so I did. I took my coffee and stepped into the elevator to the third floor. When I got there I walked quietly and thoughtfully past his room and past the water station where I had gotten water for him many times. I smelled that hospital smell – and finally turned around and headed back towards the elevator. As I stepped onto the main floor I had the clear realization that “Dad could never be contained in a place” – because he’s everywhere.
As I started walking towards the front exit, I felt deep gratitude and some sadness, but mostly I had a knowing that Dad wasn’t here in this hospital; he couldn’t be contained in a place, or even a body for that matter. In that moment I knew the truth about the fact that he’s everywhere.
And as I opened the door to leave the hospital, I heard a passerby who was having a conversation next to me, say, clearly and lovingly: “Take it easy.”
So much Love,