The man who was my father made his life transition yesterday.
I spent the day in curious contemplation……mulling over the few scenes we had
played out in this lifetime. He left when I was three and only made brief
forays back into my orbit over the years….no “daddy’s little princess”….no “picking
me up when life’s lessons knocked me on my ass”….no “beaming with joy over my
fine children and grandchildren”……
At my final visit he lay in his deathbed…a frail shell of a man...oblivious to my
presence with a drug induced sleep…and I searched my soul for forgiveness …that
fragrance that violets give to the heel that crushed them….
and it would not come……….
it saddens me to know my inheritance will be
the sickness of long thinking.......
