My dad came to visit the other night.
I was finishing milking the cows when he walked in the barn.
Seeing him again was to closest to pure joy that I have ever been.
I finished putting the milking machine on a cow, and when I got up he had started walking away.
He never said anything.
The only problem here is that he died last year.
I don't know how long it takes to get over this, maybe you never do.
I miss him so much, every day I want to just stop going on. I just want to be done, with everything. It's all too much. I am not strong enough to do it. But maybe I am, maybe we all are. Or maybe we aren't. Maybe everyone just keeps going after something like this, but they all feel as dead and empty and hopeless as I do. I sure hope this isn't true. I don't think life is supposed to be like this. A persons only source of joy should not come in a dream, only to be ripped away minutes later when that dream ends. To have to relive that loss over and over again.
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