What I Found In The Kentucky Hills Driving Home From My Father’s Funeral

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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