And despite the darkness of the hour, light floods into my eyes from all directions from tiny sources. Alarm clocks, charging cell phones, appliance clocks—anything is more in comparison to the void I just experienced, and as my thoughts come back to me, I realize what I’m holding: my father’s watch.
I glance at the framed picture next to me and reach out to face it down to shut this nightmare (dream) off, but I get as far as grasping it when instead of flipping it down, I find my thumb running circles around the face of the picture, unable to let go, and I know then that sleep shall not be an option again for several hours (days?).
I’ve seen so much death, and done so much to avoid it…but to see my father again? It can’t be soon enough, Old Man. I’ve got work to do still, but keep the coffee hot for me until I can see you once more. Parts of me won’t smile until I do.
That’s what it is to be a son. The shadow cast is long and one you want to bask in, in this life and the next. But time gets in the way. Here’s to the spaces in between.
…And dealing with that void until then.