It must be the distance, the thousands and thousands of kilometres from the bottom tip of Africa, that makes me feel that my dad didn't really pass away a year ago.
Or a stubborn belief that life is supposed to be good (which it isn't).
Life ain't good nor easy nor fair and constructs of magic and gods lull us into a false belief that we are protected and cared for.
But really:
The only beings who care for our sorry selves, are the other poor sods also plodding through life, trying to make sense of pain and death.
And my father was one of those that truly and deeply cared for me.
He was 50% of my official fanclub.
Life, dear reader, can be utterly dark.
Without my dad, it seems even darker.
.
Thinking of you! and I wrote you a little something. Not that I have the illusion it will be of any help (today or later) but simply to let you know I care.
ReplyDeleteFrom afar I'm protecting you as much as I can.
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