I spent a small portion of my evening looking thru photos I have stored on my phone. A snapshot of time that has passed. It's been three years since I last told my father I loved him. A lot has changed since then. One thing that has not changed is that love I had for him. It has not grown. There has been nothing to foster it. It has not faded. There is nothing that can take it from me. It's a feeling of permanency, a simple fact that he is gone that lingers. My memories of him have not begun to fade as I once feared. They are vivid and bright as I hope to retain them. I wish he could be around to see my daughter. She reminds me so much of him, more so each day. Her eyes are exactly his color. Her personality is starting to resemble his. It's possible she is just becoming more of a reflection of me, who may be more a reflection of him than I ever realized. I'm okay with that.
Meet me where the music plays.
