I’m not Mexican. Not Religious. Not a believer in alot of things.
But I hopped into the rabbit hole of SL today and saw a picture of My Dad.
It was framed in a cool poster on an easel, the lighting on His face was just right.
Thanks for that Lamia.
So I sat Miss Leyla in front of His photo while I sat here in my chair looking at a face that I’ve been seeing in my brain for three months. When I try to see the Man, The Father, I’m only seeing the images of that day.
Its the hardest when I come home from work. When I’m driving in the car and I see The Blue Blanket.
Blue Blanket. Down the Stairs. Backseat of a mini van. Door Closes. “Sorry for your loss.”
Leaving the house in The Blue Blanket. Coming back home in a small carved wooden box.
I spoke to my sister today. And shes going through this as best as she can. She realized something today…she was having a personal issue..small dilemma/minor crisis. So unconciously, she reached for the phone…
She cant call Him anymore.
It’s like when I have something going on at work…My Father would be one of the first people I would talk to. Funny thing is, I still talk to Him. I’ll stand out on the deck talking to the air feeling like he’s listening. Maybe it makes me feel better. Maybe it makes it worse. For now, its just “being”.
Dia De Los Muertos is the day that The Dead are honored. Halloween is the day when the veil is the thinnest between the living and the dead.
I want to pull the veil down and hold My Father again.