I got to hang out with my dad in my dreams last night. We were on a large patch of green grass and he was showing me a wooden chair he found somewhere and what a deal it was. He was in his jolly mood- excited about yet another good deal he came across. He was wearing his brown flannel shirt, the one he always wore when he would put on his cowboy boots. A look he loved to have ever since he immigrated and landed himself in Texas back in the day. Then I walked into the house I grew up in and saw my mother, asked her if she saw Dad, and she just looked at me blankly. And then in my dream, It was as if I woke up from my other dream, and I realized I was talking jibberish. He’s no longer around.
This Sunday would have been Tsiki’s 26th birthday. We already feel it, his friends and I, his family. It’s an anticipation that is always far worse than the actual day. I went the entire summer without too much thought- just allowing time to move us forward. Skipping myself farther away from the sadness that is never too far away. Who knew that sometimes we skip in circles- it’s just the circles get larger and larger with time.
So here I am- having myself a moment- but it’ll last for a few days, where everything gets a little bit scary and then time passes, skips away- forward.
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