If I said anything, he'd stop, so I just let him be. Tell me, I wanted to ask, how to be parentless & alone & secretly in love with water. There's a now we each live in that sometimes feels more like never than enough. If my father believes in ascension, then out there, beyond the lake, his mother lives forever. In the lake, too. In the wind to comb my father's hair. In the tree that wills each holy & parentless limb to cast a shadow in the morning sun's light. Out there, I hope, all we've ever missed becomes all we ever are.
I love. I've loved. I will love to keep my father alive. When he turned slow to me, he blamed the wind for all his crying.
Josh Mitteldorf, a senior editor at OpEdNews, blogs on aging at http://JoshMitteldorf.ScienceBlog.com. Read how to stay young at http://AgingAdvice.org.
Educated to be an astrophysicist, he has branched out from there to mathematical (more...)