I realized last week that this July 4th marks the 12th anniversary of my father's death, meaning that I am about to embark on a time in my life where I've spent more of it without him than with him (I was 12 when he died). I don't even know what to think about this, to be honest. Part of me feels a sense of relief, thinking that some of the intense pain and missing will start to feel better. I almost imagine it as plunging my body into a cold bath of water, how painful and shocking that is, but as time goes by, the longer I stay in, the more I get used to the feeling. The water never stops being cold. I just learn how to feel better in it.
1 comment:
What a great man he was. You look just like him in this picture by the way.
Post a Comment