Yesterday I wrote about how my father passed away.
Over the weeks that followed I had a great deal of time to think about life as I drove between Ohio and Alabama for the funeral and to help put his affairs in order.
Two keystone life events had just occurred within a fortnight of each other.
My wife and I had just welcomed our second baby, which was amazing.
But then 10 days my dad died, which sucked.
The best of times and the worst of times.
It was like a real-life Charles Dickens novel.
But while driving home on Interstate 65 in Kentucky, I found something.
We like to toss around trite clichés like “finding oneself”. I guess it’s one of those things that’s just a consequence of good phrasing. It works.
Anyway, on that cold December day in the hills, I remembered something important.
I remembered the ticking of the clock.
And then I remembered there was a long list of things I wanted to do with my time here.
As I considered the fleeting nature of that time, I felt old sensations return.
Hunger. Ambition. Desire.
By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was filled with clarity and resolve.
I may have lost my dad, but maybe I found myself in the process.
Now it was time to get to work…
Tick. Tick. Tick.
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