Ashes

Dad was cremated yesterday. It was a crazy hard day. He lived with so much vitality; he was too young to go, to suffer as much as he did. It's strange to think that after the intensity he lived with that all is left is some dust and a few trinkets. No more stories, too-sweet breakfasts, or debates solely to get someone riled up. No more horse rides through the mountains or belated lessons he'd intended to give when I was younger. Indeed, resting in peace seems to be held by the dead. I miss you Dad.

R.