The Precipice of Year Two

I haven’t formally written about my dad for a multitude of reasons. Perhaps it’s the finality of black and white; the irrefutable truth of a perfectly formed word. Maybe it’s the sharp edges of four seemingly insignificant letters that, in sequence, are capable of crumbling my silly existence. Dead. Four letters that are more heart wrenching than a memory and heavier than a foot stone. This is the most painful and agonizing piece I’ve ever written. I want no part of it, the words are unreal if unspoken. Here it goes… September 19, 2014 was a whirlwind of contradicting emotions. Shock, fear, hope, despair, love, desperation, confusion, peace, restlessness, denial….