"I held my father's hand...It was just cool flesh. That feeling of terrible emptiness when I touched him was like going into a house that you thought would be full of people you loved, only to find it empty, and even the furniture taken. You walk from room to room, hearing your footsteps echo on the naked floors. Your voice bounces back from the empty walls, where the lines of beloved photos still show like the line around the body at a crime scene. He was gone. My tall, handsome, amazing father. He was supposed to have been immortal..."~ Merry Gentry, A Stroke of Midnight, p41
The word used at his homegoing service last week was "inimitable".
May God make his memory eternal.
Lord have mercy on me a sinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment