There are stages to grieving. I am past the denial and anger stage, but no where near the acceptance point. Last week when I pulled up to my mom's house there was a "for sale" sign in my dad's semi truck. My heart sank. I knew it was for sale, but to actually see the sign just caught me off guard. My dad was an independent truck driver-he owned his semi truck and was basically a self-employed contractor. Even though his cancer was taking a toll on him physically, he did not want to stop driving. He spent his last seconds alive in his semi truck. I've been wanting to go inside of my dad's truck. I wanted to see it before it was cleaned out. I wanted to see his bag, his papers, his cup, and even his blood. It sounds weird, but my dad was alone when he died and if I could see his truck in the state that it was before it was cleaned, then maybe I could find some sense of closure. I could in some strange way "be there?" I guess? I did get a chance to go inside, but there wasn't any traces of him. Lil Marcus came outside with me and well he wanted to sit in the truck too.
My Dad and Son in 2008
My Son 2010
On the picture right above, I kept trying to get Marcus' attention, but he kept looking up. I'm just going to put this out there, but on the 2010 pictures of my son there is a white glowing spot that shows up in these pictures. The white glow is on his knee in the picture of him sitting outside of the truck and on the pictures of my son inside the truck its between him and the steering wheel. Its not a glare from the sun because we were shaded under the tree. Maybe its a speck on my camera lens or maybe its something more.
No comments:
Post a Comment