every year i tell myself i’m not gonna let it bother me. and every year the fall comes and with it the memories.
i can feel it coming back again, like a rolling thunder chasing the wind; forces pulling from the center of the earth again… i can feel it
teetering close to the edge of t.m.i. – seven years ago tomorrow my dad died. he was old, he’d lived a good, long life. but when i think back on it now, i’m pained not only by the mourning for his not being here anymore, but the pain i know he must have suffered silently for years before he died; pain that i didn’t know existed until after he passed and it was revealed to me, under the guise of “i need to get this off my chest.”
time it was, and what a time it was – it was; a time of innocence, a time of confidences. long ago it must be, i have a photograph, preserve your memories. they’re all that’s left you.
so this one’s for you, daddy. no sarcasm today; no biotching. just love. i miss you. twenty-five years wasn’t enough time.
it's the same thing every year