I sit here in front of a blank screen not sure of what to write today. This week was full of activities and emotions that put me to bed early and drained my brain. Right now, everything I could tell you seems too trivial.
Independence Holiday will never be the same for me again; you see, we buried my father on July 3. I didn’t feel like going to parades or fireworks. I didn’t feel anything but emptiness this year. I know it will get better as time heals the raw wound, but I’m an orphan for the first time in my life.
Being without parents is strange. I never thought I would have such feelings because for many years my parents pushed me away in favor of other children, and I wasn’t strong enough to push back. Whenever I tried, I always felt like the loser, so eventually I gave up. I would never reach their standard for me, so I grew up and set my own standard. I know that sounds petty, and maybe it is, but I never had a closeness with my mother and my father followed in her footsteps.
His death dredged up emotions I realized will subside given enough time. The hurts of the past will fade away, and I’ll remember only the good times as I look at the photos that remain after their deaths. Unless your a professional photograph looking for art, most photos are taken during the happy times in life. I don’t think I have one photo where someone is crying. I don’t even think there is one photo of people frowning. Maybe that’s because before the snap of the shutter, we all say and think, “Smile!”
And maybe that’s how it should be. We should dwell on the happy times. In the end, it’s all we have left.