Dad

I finally got to see my dad after almost 4 years since I last saw him. I was a little bit nervous; I bit my nails, I picked on my fingers. It seemed so strange. Why was I nervous to see my dad? I also felt a sense of awe taking over me, as excitement was thrusting through my veins. I got to see my dad. That sentence alone has all the significance in the world.

However, when I saw him face to face, all those mixed emotions dissolved themselves and was superseded by pure bliss. There, in the seas of strangers, stood my dad. Him, that's my dad. To my surprise, he looked a little bit older than I imagined him to be. I guess my family never get old in my mind. Or maybe I didn't face the reality until now.

I spent almost 2 days with him. Short, but sweet. I talked. I laughed. I felt safe, very safe, like nothing in this world could sway me. I've been living on edge for too long, I miss having the feeling of being carefree and protected. My dad brought all those things back to me simply with his presence; he did not even have to use any word or carry out any action.

And that two days passed by before I knew it. After saying goodbye to him, I drove away and inevitably, my eyes got red. I could still hear my dad's voice on the back of my mind, "You have to take care of yourself because you're just by yourself here." Bitter. So bitter.

Nevertheless, I came home here in Texas again with trailer homes, with horses, with wild grass, with the everlasting blue sky. I just can't help but wonder, in the end, what does really matter?