Dad: Six Months Gone

Here I sit, in my church, before the srevice starts, & Johnny Cash's rendition of "Personal Jesus" plays.

How ironic. So very ironic. You would find this ironic if you knew him too. People used to call him Cowboy Cash, as he could always be found at the local tavern singing a Johnny Cash song or two on karaoke night.

My mind is a million & one miles away. Not exactly where it's supposed to be in church. Then again, maybe this is where exactly I'm supposed to be. Thoughts of my dad engulf ever crevass of my brain. And part of me hates that.

Every morning, as I awake & become aware of the world around me. The world feels unfilimar & something's a miss. Something's just not right.

Then I remember - Dad is gone.

And everyday I have to remind myself of that. Still. Secretly, in silience I am in pain. My heart is hurting. I so desprately want relief & wonder when it will come.

I am so tired. I am so tired of being alive. Not in a life vs. death sense, but rather a being alive vs. living sense.

Time has ticked on at a rapid pace. I cannot fathom that 6 months has passed when it seems like only weeks. Yet, there are periods that time seems to stand still. Or maybe it is me standing still.

Stuck.