Dear Dad

Over and over I write to you in my head. Letters upon letters. Conversations to the past, of the past, present, and future.

My heart swims in longing for your rugged diesel and spruce scented clothing, the sound of wood thudding against the galvanized tub in mom's kitchen as you loaded the wood in, the soft tones of your guitar as you strummed a new tune, and the scratchy stubble of your lovely face as you leaned in close while giving a long hug. All these memories, forever held close to my heart.

Part of me holds back, afraid of the pain that comes from such an intense loss. I do not have the personal space right now to grieve. I have the tools, but not the space. I am not ready to go deep. Part of my scoffs at my fear of pain, but part of me knows that when I'm ready, I'll go into my heartspace and do the deep feeling, and the deep healing. I feel then we'll be together in spirit. Right now, it's even painful to feel your spirit, so far off and so different. But so beautiful. I just miss you, deeply and sadly so.

I cannot bear to look at the clothes within the black plastic bags. With a lighthearted attempt I try to peek in and end up in a ball of tears and anguish. I cannot deny my tears. But I deny the depth of my human heart. I've had some heart palpitations in the past few weeks, a physical reminder to tend to the spiritual and emotional needs of my being. Spirit manifests physical.

Sometimes I get angry when other people talk about their dads. I get angry that people don't understand or respect my pain. I get angry that I have pain.

But then I try to find my joy. I try to remember the light of the past, and let it balance the grief of the present. I try to find balance.

You are so far away. So beyond this lifetime. I sense such a freedom of your spirit, the joy of traveling with no limitations. Spirit is non-linear. I love your freedom. I honor your choice and your joy at your present state.

To anyone stopping by- All are welcome to read my writings. Thank's for visiting.