Flowers for my Father

Went to the flower district today with one of my sisters to place an order for the flowers that would be at my father’s funeral. Sometimes I feel like he’s at home and I can imagine him sitting in the balcony, in his room, or at the dining table. Then it hits me that those times are now int he past. I like to think that if I go far enough out in space, I can use a really powerful telescope and be able to see my dad. Echoes of the past are the present elsewhere in the universe.


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