There are two things I don't do very well: cleaning out my car and letting go of people.
Over the past couple of years people have left my life; a few because I wanted to get them and their habits out of my life, most left though the passing of time and of course my dad because he had to. I miss ALL of these people immensely, but some things are hard to let go then others.
My dad passed away on August 7th and his funeral was within a few days of his passing. It's now January 25th and I still have the program on the floor of my car. Five months later it's still creased perfectly in half alongside the funeral home standard tissue package I received at the funeral.
Even if I did clean out my car, I don't think I could take it out.
For the same reason my Facebook picture is still a picture of the two of us. I can't let go. I need him to still be around, even if it's only through glare tinged glasses from a photocopy. I can still see his gray blue eyes from the floor of the passenger seat and it's always reassuring.
He may not be physically sitting with me in the car, but I can still see his face when I need to and pretend I can hear his voice and his words. My dad was more than my father and mentor, he was a very close friend. I can't let go.
Over the past couple of years people have left my life; a few because I wanted to get them and their habits out of my life, most left though the passing of time and of course my dad because he had to. I miss ALL of these people immensely, but some things are hard to let go then others.
My dad passed away on August 7th and his funeral was within a few days of his passing. It's now January 25th and I still have the program on the floor of my car. Five months later it's still creased perfectly in half alongside the funeral home standard tissue package I received at the funeral.
Even if I did clean out my car, I don't think I could take it out.
For the same reason my Facebook picture is still a picture of the two of us. I can't let go. I need him to still be around, even if it's only through glare tinged glasses from a photocopy. I can still see his gray blue eyes from the floor of the passenger seat and it's always reassuring.
He may not be physically sitting with me in the car, but I can still see his face when I need to and pretend I can hear his voice and his words. My dad was more than my father and mentor, he was a very close friend. I can't let go.
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