This is my first post since my father’s death.
In all honesty, I have been terrified to write. Afraid of what words will stain this page and the truths that will reveal themselves. I am not even afraid that I will break down and fall apart by remembering that he isn’t here. I am more afraid that in these words I will find the indifference to which I had become accustomed. An indifference in which I have found comfort. It has wrapped me up like a warm blanket on a cold night.
But I write. Because When you can’t write what you need to write, you write what you can.
I just spent the last 3 weeks with some of my family, getting to know and love them more. My mom and I finally got to Rochester, NY (after missing our flight the previous day and spending the night in traffic)…
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