By estelacha on Skatehive
Today, as life continues its indifferent course, my internal clock marks a date that will forever be a before and after: 24 years ago, my father, my most beloved person, embarked on the journey of no return into the invisible. Twenty-four springs without his voice, without his laughter, without that presence that filled everything, and yet, his absence remains such a heavy presence that it sometimes takes my breath away. source We are often told that time heals all wounds, but I have learned that this is not so. Time doesn't heal, time transforms. The first year, the pain was a sharp knife; now it is a wound that has learned to coexist with my breathing. There are days when I remember you and smile with gratitude for having been your daughter, and others when a song, a scent, a casual gesture overwhelms me and takes me back to that April 14, 2002, as if it were yesterday. And that's okay. Because that pain is only the flip side of the love I had for you. Today I'm not lighting a candle