My father died ten years ago today. I don't think losing a parent is anything that people ever completely recover from. Instead, we get by.
I've visited his grave several times in the past ten years. The first couple of years I could feel his presence. Not so much anymore. Maybe that's all part of the healing process. I don't know.
What I do know is that on many of those visits I am not alone. I am usually joined by this irritating little fly. It's not even a fly, it's more like a gnat. It flies around my face and I have to shoo it away with my hand.
What makes this strange is that this gnat appears only when I visit my fathers grave. It doesn't matter the season, whether it is the middle of summer or the dead of winter, I can count on that gnat being there most of the time.
This often makes me wonder if that bug is actually some form of my father somehow trying to communicate with me. It's a silly thought, but one that gives me comfort.
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1 comment:
Good post Mike. I definitely think it's some form of your dad. He sure was a great man and missed, still, by so many.
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