Life is Fleeting
My bedroom is an extension of the house. We built it sometime after my father had passed on. The roof is made of tin so when it rains the sound amplifies by 50. I was listening to Something to Remember me by - Polly Paulusma. It is a song about how the world changes but the memories of ourselves we leave behind are forever when we pass on. For some reason the song coupled with the sound reminded me of my fathers funeral. It only sprinkled but the noise the rain makes reminded me of the day. You know how in movies, theres that scene when the person is standing still in time and the whole world is rapidly moving around it? Thats how I remember my fathers funeral. I remember my mothers face, the men and women perfectly folding the flag, the white cloth that goes around their boots and buttons on the side, the gunshots, the woman handing my mother the flag. Everything between those moments, and the days following it are a complete blur. Both sight and sound.All though we do have those memories its not always enough. I still have my fathers military shirt, his guitar, his notes he wrote when he couldn't speak. And when we have to part with some physical rememberance it's hard. When my old dog passed away, she was my fathers first. Losing her was like losing my father again. She used to sleep so close against me that whenever I moved she'd move next to me again, practically pushing me off the bed. She understood me, and I her. I miss her everyday, I miss my father everyday.
I don't remember much from my childhood, just bits and pieces. But I remember the day my mother told us my father had cancer. Every detail. It's funny the memories we hold onto and the ones we can't shake off.
Life is fleeting.
