Four years have passed since my father’s sudden death. Four years. The span of a college education. The gap between Olympics. The time between leap years. Four years seems long and at the same time not at all.
Although I choose to remember my father with love, it was not an uncomplicated relationship. I find that when someone you love with a complicated love dies, you not only have to reconcile their death, but you are faced with reconciling the kinks and holes in your relationship. You work through the good and bad memories of who they really were along with the unfulfilled yearning of how you always wanted them to be.
Times like these I am especially thankful that I have my writing for solace, for outlet, for secret-sharing.
“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”