An imprint upon you

Last Thursday, I received another package from home, from my dad's widow.

In this package, among other thoughtful items included, was a beautiful necklace that has my dad's finger print on the front side, his name in memory, on the other.

"As a daily reminder how much we love you." my dad's widow said.

Wearing this necklace, is an imprint upon me. Of who I am. Of where I come from. Of what my dad, his widow, and I, seek for me, of me. The best I have to offer this world, the best this world has to offer.

Not for others. For me. Of me.

I miss my dad. I miss his widow. I wish she and I could have coffee or a glass of wine, again, as we once did months before my dad died.

I reflect, she and I, see the commonality in our living, being that my dad lives no more. She wears the same finger print necklace, like the one she sent me. It is in my dad's eternal absence, she and I are now open to seeing the best in one other after years of disquiet.

It is a wonder, this life and death of ours.

And still, we know not what it means, or why for, but we live. We are born, and so shall we die.

As the years past, one decade gone following another, since my very first notion about the world, I hold dear to heart among the few, this thought...

There exists very little worse on this planet of ours, than a coward. Not solely in it's heroic definition, but more so, the simplicity of not standing up for what you believe in for yourself, of yourself, and therefore, in like, for others, of others.

Their selfishness, their false entitlements, their fears, their ignorance, are not meant for you and I. We do not suffer intended small mindedness. You and I are meant for the company where our lives and contributions are more beloved and cherished, than appearance of life. See these people for who they are. And let them be.

You and I, our paths will cross among our many adventures, as the universe sees fit.

And I, for one, look forward meeting you.