I can never remember a time when I did not miss my father. I believe I felt his absence even as an infant. My mom said I adored him so much as a baby that I would cry when he left the room. He left the room permanently when I was nine months old; it left a deep void that followed me throughout my childhood and early adult life.

As a child, I laid in bed begging for the same thing every night. "Please daddy, come and visit me". I would focus so hard, trying to summon him from the afterlife in to my pink bedroom. I would do this for hours and hours, every single night. I wanted to look in to his eyes, just once. Or even hear his voice, just once. How I begged, cried, pleaded. One time, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was so shocking that I jumped out of bed and searched everywhere for the cause. But I never did get to see him. As I got older, I gave up asking. But I have certainly felt his presence throughout my life.

I am now thirty eight years old. I just celebrated my birthday last week. Yesterday, my cousin Beth stopped by with some Christmas and birthday gifts. One was wrapped in a small rectangular package. Beth quietly said, “This is a dvd of some old family videos. It includes video of your father”.

Video of my father?? What??? There was video of my father? I was going to SEE him??? I couldn’t believe my ears.

When Beth left, I sat down to finally see what I had wished for my entire life. Footage of him was mixed within Beth’s family vacations, bar mitzvahs and summer time in the pool. But I spotted him so easily in every frame. He was so oddly familiar.

Seeing him was also shocking. His energy was so incredibly bright that it shown through old vintage 1960 film. He was a beautiful man, I already knew that, but I had no idea how beautiful until I saw him alive. For the first time, I was seeing my father alive. His eyes were full of fire, his smile was electric and his beauty came from within.

I felt like all of the blood left me, like I was hollow. This was one of the most memorable experiences I had ever had, and it was given to me by my sweet cousin who was considerate enough to somehow know what I yearned for. And for that, I will be eternally grateful to her.

The night before Beth's visit, I had dreamt of a black sky full of shooting stars. I Googled the meaning of shooting stars and found this:

"To see a shooting star in your dream is a sign of self-fulfillment and advancement. A shooting star is also symbolic of a new birth and big changes in your life."

I feel as if a dream that I had clung to my entire childhood and finally let go of came true. I feel more complete, as if a little hole inside of me was filled with a soothing salve. I feel like a little girl who finally got to look in to her daddy's eyes. I caught a sky full of shooting stars.

He's on the right, waving.