I walk forward. I feel you behind me but do not turn to look back. I can sense your shadow. You are still my father, just as you were two years ago when I realized your footprints would no longer be seen on earth, or your shuffling heard.
I move forward but admit that I am tempted to go back, into the memory of holding you, your lifeless weight in my arms. I held you up for the last time after a lifetime of your strength holding me up.
I look forward to the leaves shimmering in the trees, waving their delight to be caught in the wind of heaven’s breath, where warmth and heat and light and love flow.
The butterfly appears out of nowhere like a spark of joy. It flies overhead and in an instant is behind me. I reach out to receive the beauty before me. I am surprised to make an offering out of sadness then see how my cup overflows.
In memory of William P. February 9, 1929 – June 29, 2016
Feature photo from Conversations with Dad
Love flows through these lines.
Sad and tender, and in the end,
joyful. Life’s cycle personified.
A portrayal of truth and peace.
Sarah, thank you! Your thoughtful feedback always means so much. Deb
Thank you, Sundaram.
This brings tears to my eyes as I remember my own Dad. So beautiful, dearest Deb! <3 <3
Dear Lynn, I hope they have met up in heaven! ❤️ Love you!