A Metaphor for a Missing Moment

{keep in mind this a representation of experiences, both mine and from converstaions had with my family before, during, and after}

All my feelings are coming out at once from the center of my earth, they mimic the intensions of lightning in that they have little direction. the Confusion that sets in feels like it should belong to another family down the hall. This moment has been anticipated with time against time. And when all that's left to do is reflect on what has happened; in these moments there seems to be the presence of an energy that never left or came. The decisive call of an eternal love coincides with our own absolutions. The sudden arrival and return of family to share experiences and lend hearts to one another; these are the sage like moments are what separate this particular season

I put off writing this for so long, as it would be a more finalized medium of acceptance. My father will be the world to me from the moment that I could understand others outside myself until I am resuscitated by what captures the essence of us all. I see now that the doors to that place are always open, that it is the rooms themselves that are forever changing. In what ever way we chose to observe the world around us; it alters what defines our eternity.

My weary eyes will still, at times, stray to the horizon and in a sleep walking stance descend this road I've been on so many times. The grass will seem different then, this house, this life, this light will seem to have changed, but I will forever know that the change has not come from these things, but that it has come from within me. And on nights of wonder I will be comforted by the friends around me, and the life that I have made because of the obstacles I have endured from both the time I spent with my father and the time that he lived in the space between family and friends. I believe that if my father had a choice then he chose no better time to ascend.