Goodbye Dad.

In memory of John Raidy, my father.

I walked out of the Regal Cinema theaters downtown DC. It was past midnight, so the WMATA metro was already closed for the day. I was gonna have to bike it back home. As I turn towards the descending escalator, wondering if I should throw my leftover popcorn or try to bike home with it somehow, a bolt of lighting went up my spine and hugged my face with a familiar numbness.

It was an ad for Toy Story 5.

My eyes welled up with tears. It’s been three months since my father died. I remember it well, thirty years ago, just after my sixth birthday. It still is one of my earliest, and fondest, memories with my father. He took me to the premiere of original Toy Story. We were living in Kuwait back then, right after I was born in Lebanon.

I still remember how excited he was about 3D animated movies. The light in his eyes. He rarely was this excited about something, much less a CG movie about toys. He wasn’t very expressive. I take that from him. He told me how much work and effort and talent it …