Dear Patron
Tonight, near the meat deli section of the grocery store, I burst into tears.
Tears, not sobs. The difference being that my crying was silent, and mostly not embarrassing.
I had such thoughts, each one punctuated by my placement of some treat in my grocery cart. All accumulating in anticipation from a visit from my father.
My father. Bearer of my heart. Co-creator of my world view. Betraying asshole. Intellectual equal. Motivation for all my successes. Measurement of my worth. Dad.
I realized suddenly how, as if everything else in the past few months was completely reduced, I missed him and was so excited, just by the mere thought of seeing him.
I envisioned emotion scenes at the check out line, where I would tell the cashier, teeming with pride "I am buying all of this because MY FATHER is coming to my house of Thanksgiving!" And she would cheer, and people around us would clap. They would give me some kind of coupon I bet, too.
When I was thinking of all this was when I burst into tears.
Here, faithful readers, is the reason: I thought suddenly how I was in need of no ceremony. No prize, no attention.
I have a father. He was present through all of my childhood. He has seen every important moment in my life, and he loves me. Most importantly, he is alive.
I am one lucky duck. With a lot of thoughts to express that my brain can't produce now.
I am excited by what is in store for me this week.
Love me, completely and utterly, when I am this happy. It is the purest form of my existence.
Tears, not sobs. The difference being that my crying was silent, and mostly not embarrassing.
I had such thoughts, each one punctuated by my placement of some treat in my grocery cart. All accumulating in anticipation from a visit from my father.
My father. Bearer of my heart. Co-creator of my world view. Betraying asshole. Intellectual equal. Motivation for all my successes. Measurement of my worth. Dad.
I realized suddenly how, as if everything else in the past few months was completely reduced, I missed him and was so excited, just by the mere thought of seeing him.
I envisioned emotion scenes at the check out line, where I would tell the cashier, teeming with pride "I am buying all of this because MY FATHER is coming to my house of Thanksgiving!" And she would cheer, and people around us would clap. They would give me some kind of coupon I bet, too.
When I was thinking of all this was when I burst into tears.
Here, faithful readers, is the reason: I thought suddenly how I was in need of no ceremony. No prize, no attention.
I have a father. He was present through all of my childhood. He has seen every important moment in my life, and he loves me. Most importantly, he is alive.
I am one lucky duck. With a lot of thoughts to express that my brain can't produce now.
I am excited by what is in store for me this week.
Love me, completely and utterly, when I am this happy. It is the purest form of my existence.