Dad.

Today marks ten years since my father's passing.

It's such a strange thing, remembering the moment my world shattered. It was already fragile enough and his death just pushed it past the edge. It amplified my loneliness, my neediness, my desire to be cut off from the world. I wanted comfort and nothing. My life was, at that moment, a series of chaotic dichotomies. I did not know who I was or where I belonged anymore. All I knew was that he was gone and I was still here and the world was still spinning and it all felt very cruel to me. Like a joke gone horribly wrong. I mourned outwardly for years. Now I just mourn in my heart, in the dark when the world is silent and there's nothing else to think about other than the fact that he is gone.

I think about him everyday. I try to tell myself that I don't, but I do. It will come up as a reminder. Daddy. And then my mind will stir and recall his face and it will cast itself before me like a spell that endlessly repeats itself. I try to tell myself that as the years go by, I'm healing. But I'm not. The hole is still there and will always be. I've just learned to cover it with beautiful things, things that will camouflage how deeply it hurts to lose someone you love. I think that's why I seek out words. I think that's why I seek out the night. Both things are peaceful to me. It allows me to reflect and to cry without judgement.

There are certain things I remember about him, things that I will cling to my heart and never let go of. They are talismans that bound me to him, this man who has become only spirit. Meanwhile I'm trying to find my center again, my safety in such a spontaneous and unknown world. He left so suddenly and still…still there are remnants of him that I'm just now finding. It's like his death was an eruption and parts of him were tossed to different parts of my world, waiting to be found. I take those discoveries as a sign. A photo, a seashell, a song. Any of those. Everyone of those, are mine to reach to.

I want to believe that we are embodiments of light, that even as our shells disintegrate and merge with the earth, our light remains, indestructible. When I lay in the dark and recall his voice, I close my eyes and see sunshine. This is how I know he lived. This is how I know he loved me, this lonely child still grieving.