The day of the forty-four sunsets

This is the weekend.

I've been dreading its approach. I think about it, and my throat closes. My stomach turns over.

I fight the what-ifs.

A year ago today, I rushed out of work at noon, and sped to my parents' house...to wait.

Somehow, even after all those years, I was unprepared. With the call, I knew. And yet, I was absolutely unprepared.

Unprepared for it to happen. Unprepared to sit through hours upon hours of waiting, knowing nothing. A whole Friday of nothing. Most of a Saturday of nothing.

In the end, I was unprepared for the answer to be yes.

And now, a year later, I still have some very dark, painful moments. But more and more, I can look to the light.

I hope that once my dad let go of the heaviness of mortality, he found peace, and rediscovered joy. I hope it's like the Little Prince. I hope he's reveling in the sparkle of the stars.

I hope he's keeping company with old friends and family, watching as many sunsets as he wants, tamping down the baobabs - although the gardening was not so much his thing. He'd do fine with the volcanoes, though - he was always assiduous with the air filters and such.

I'll post the slide show this weekend. I know a day early shouldn't matter, but somehow, it does.