Sunday, February 2, 2014

dear dad,





I wanted to start this off by saying how quick five years went, but then when I began to think of all of the people, places and things that formed together to create those 1826 days, the word "quick" seemed so empty. I think it seems quick in a sense of, why would I want the 33 days you spent in the hospital unresponsive to be anywhere near the present.. or maybe quick in a sense of so many things happened that I rather just sum it up with a not so creative and incredibly common word such as "quick."

In the past five years I have jumped and free fallen from 2 miles above the earth until my feet were grounded, more literally than figuratively actually. (This is a sky diving reference, I know you may have been insanely nervous for your little girl to jump out of a plane, but radiating with pride that I did it at the same time) Finally feeling fastened to the earth in some shape of form, I am here, feeling like the same person I was all of these days ago; except that I know I am a little bit more than just that. In the last 260 weeks life truly HAS been a roller coaster. I think every one loves to use this phrase but I may have found the perfection definition this time. From one second being this perfect close knit family of you, mom and I, to you suddenly dying, our cars breaking down, the house falling apart, the water heater, the oil heater, frozen pipes and little leaks, but no dad to fix these things. Mom was a super hero, an incredible person who held her and I together with the little glue that we had. She helped tug me through when I sometimes felt stuck and made sure I still accomplished everything I was destined to. Acceptance to an incredible art college, my own solo art exhibit senior year, dozens of awards and recognitions, a high school diploma and the confidence I needed to continue to succeed in everything I put my heart into. 

Everyday I wish so much that you could meet all of the people I have met in these past five years. A very special guy in particular who may just love me more than I could ever imagine another one doing so, the exact miracle that I may still say I have never witnessed. Sometimes I like to think that you finally found the perfect sister that I never knew that I was missing. A genuine crescent half to my life that is something truly irreplaceable.  I know that even though you may not be here physically, you find a way to make yourself so incredibly present. And the greatest thing of all (besides the fact that when you're not handing your writing in you can start a sentence with and) is that I am your only child, and we are the only other halve for each other. It may sound selfish, but my favorite thing that is mine is you.

Then suddenly I find myself here, in a perfect new place to call home, five years later. Turning my greatest passion into a career surrounded by a ton of people who love me. I know for certain I have experienced some of the darkest times in my life, and am thankful to say that it is over. I've learned that with death comes birth in forms of inspiration. I've learned that with every sun rise and sun set I feel a closeness with you that could never compare to one thing materialistic. The true definition of my love for golden hour is you, and has always been you I just needed time to realize.