It's been two years now since my dad died (December 13, 2010).
|My dad looking for action, and maybe a little trouble, too, flying down this snowy hill.|
Last year, I was full of words to mark this date that leads to forever.
This year, however, brings silence. Maybe I am digging deeper into the quiet earth of remembrance seeking to locate lost items that have been with me my whole life.
Well, yes. There are those horror stories and difficult moments; but, surprisingly, those multitudes of good memories, wise words, moments of beauty and—je ne sais pas—are winning out.
It’s true about goodness rising. It’s lighter. It’s stronger. It floats. It’s true that beauty is larger. It expands, it multiplies over time.
I'm learning that ugliness & disappointment & destructiveness shrink and shrivel. They do. (But, I can only speak for myself and my experience.)
So, this time around I consider this odd process of loss, of losing a parent--how bizarre this mixing of time and emotions somehow can produce new revelations like milkweed seeds bursting from a pod, seeds of love bursting from a daughter’s heart.
I miss you dad. Hope you are still gardening.
|In the yard, tending to his flowers and shrubs, where my dad was happiest.|