Two Years Ago

I was going to post some things about what was going on for me two years ago, but when I took a quick look, I've decided against it. My dad passed away April 9, 2002.

I can't decide what's worse, reading the passages written when I didn't know I would lose him within the week or reading the passages about losing him. Nothing good about either.

And even reading the stuff I wrote about getting ready for spring and setting the clocks ahead on this Sunday two years ago, to know that time for him was running down to a lifetime low, to know that the clocks were about to meltdown anyway, all so strange, this life. Leaves me with the paradoxical and unachieveable desire to have just one more hour with him. And what would I say in that hour? A lifetime of words, or just be silent and hold his hand? I don't have the answer.