Father’s Day

It’s been more than a year now, but the grief doesn’t just go away.

My poor, fond sister

My poor, fond sister, how I fear for thee!
-Sophocles, Antigone

The Sharpest Blade

When my father died I knew my life would never be the same again.  I didn’t know exactly how it would change me, but I felt the change all the same.  Part of me was missing, gone, a piece of myself, a piece of my soul, and it wasn’t lost, it was just gone.  Poof!  Vanished, in a gun shot.

There are people in this world who are going to hurt you.  Rip your family away from you without remorse, and you can scream and cry and get angry, but the world is still under the same evil spell that its been under since the beginning of time.  There will always be bad people, and sometimes you will be helpless when they hurt you.  It’s how you deal with pain that will make you or break you.

For a while, everything was foggy, but the clouds began to clear, and I was able to find the light again.  It still gets cloudy, and sometimes the storm seems like it won’t end, but eventually, the sun comes out of hiding, and warms you up, and dries the rain.