Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Calling dad

   I thought about calling my father as I got into my car early earlier. I think this every couple of months or so, though my father's been dead for eleven years at the time of this writing. I don't know whether that's a little or a lot. Anyway, I didn't feel particularly close to him as an adult when he was alive.
   It's not strange to me that I should have thought to call him in the morning (I regularly think to call other people at this time), but the idea of calling him made me think more today why I do so. Surprisingly to me, I even thought of telling him that I loved him.  
   I imagine my wish to call him and others as I go out into the world is an attempt on my part to feel more related and less afraid; perhaps less or more me. Maybe the thought of telling my father that I loved him was a merely a wish to feel closer to a world that I often find so antagonistic.

No comments:

Post a Comment