Dearest Father,
I must confess the eternal emptiness since your passing.
A year has faded in events that I find difficulty in comprehension.
People swore it'd get better, but just as interest compounds, so does hurt.
My memory cannot allow me to forget the unresolved matters and move onward.
Our final words, my abrupt goodbye, and your faint dying breath.
I didn't want to let go of your hand. Ever.
I sat and studied your face. I needed to remember it in precise detail.
A collective of tears and tissues, we wept for our loss.
I was selfish. I wanted you to stay and bare the pain.
I feared that the agony of my loss was greater than that of your cancer.
And I learned in death, it was your salvation.
You're no longer suffering, you're free to be.
To roam with the buffalos, where the wind wanders.
I reflect on life's matters ahead.
I practice remembering the memories with cheer.
You are who I look up to, who I want to emulate.
And I'll never forget who you are.
You're always in my heart... in life and death.
Your Loving Son
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Published by Alexander Richter
Alexander Richter is a Christian author who also writes under the alias, The Tea Cup Writer. He lives in Battle Ground, Washington joined by his wife and golden retriever. When Alexander is not brewing coffee or typing vigorously away at his newest novel, you can find him roaming through the whimsical Pacific Northwest or combing the forest's undergrowth for a mythical four-leaf clover. He's yet to find one.
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