The sun does indeed rise after tragedy. I am typing to a glorious sunrise filled with the scent of freshly cut hay and birds chirping. The light is playing through the shadows of Sherwood Forest, dancing across the grass. Life does go on. My heart hurts and my mind dramatizes with the thoughts that this sunrise my dad will never see. Truthfully, he hasn't seen any for days and even weeks. His passing is all so final.
I hate the thought that he is in a morgue, keeping his body cooled and in limbo. I hate him being alone. I want to be with him but know that I am not strong enough for the coldness and stiffness of his body. I chose to remain in the room as the funeral people wrapped and transferred him into the body bag. Karen and her sister didn't want to be there, but I felt like I couldn't leave him. I kept thinking that these were the last few precious moments I would ever have with him. I couldn't leave, even had I wanted to.
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