January 23, 2010

My father died when I was 12. I'm 23 now. Sometimes, randomly, usually during huge milestones in my life, I wonder what he would have to say about my life decisions, my accomplishments. It isn't everyday, all day, it happens sporadically, but those kinds of thoughts, they linger.

I can't help but wonder what he would have to say about my New York dreams. I was young when he died, therefore I can't even whole heartedly say I know for a fact that he would back me or even encourage it. It would just be soothing to hear it from his mouth. All I have are numerous family members who just want my head to be filled with happy thoughts all the time of him, but sometimes I crave the truth behind memories I was too young to fully digest.

I can only hope he would want this for me...but apart of me doesn't believe the whole reality behind that. This is just an example of those rare nights where all I can do is flip through the endless library of his lost thoughts...