... And in the dark, still hours

 

...And in the dark, still hours, the world is soft and calm. The memories float like lofty clouds above yet within. The interior self is aloft in the sky with all the images of time, set into no line of a straight steady sense, but freely floating around the memories as the imagination takes the wind. There floats today's memory of 2009 both sad with loss and sweet with remembrance, as if it were last year, a short time ago. A time comes now in memory of the dark, sadness when the loss of Dad became a sudden, swift reality that filled us all with sorrow. But the memories now float freely detached from a particular moment or timeline as time is no longer necessarily in any straight line. It is just always. 

It is always there, sometimes close and poignant when the winds blow it near when some date or specific memory draws it. Sometimes it seems like something distant, but it never departs. Always held in the steady skies of God-created memory for our humanness to encounter. For deep utter loss is part of being human. And my mind can go so naturally towards it not because I try to, but because it is stamped in me, and these memories are always there. The winds just blow them this way at this time, for remembrance, deeply set in thankfulness for him.