Transitioning…

A few days after I wrote my last blog post in October, my father was hospitalized and would not return to his Earthly home, rather transcend into the other realm. I personally knew nothing about transitioning. I did not know the signs that end of life was near, and that there was a natural process our physical bodies partake in for our souls to have eternal freedom. I am no stranger to loss, having experienced death often and at an early age, but transitioning was a process foreign to my understanding.

Transition: the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

For the first twenty years of my life, I existed solely to serve as your redemption. My purpose was to learn every lesson that escaped you, and to achieve every goal that was too far beyond your reach. I wanted to make you proud more than I ever dreamed of my own success. You expected nothing but the best from me, and it was my honor to deliver it. I went above and beyond.

It was not until those next ten years of co-existing with you that I began to see the fragility of your human existence. I suffered my first perceived failure, and it was you who told me to wipe my tears away. You were not disappointed in me like I had thought you would have been, instead you encouraged me to keep going, keep striving until I staked my claim. Something was different. The dynamics had changed and for the first time I realized that you had been proud of me all along.

Those next few years saw a reversal of roles. You fought and fought to remain who you had always been. The strong man, independent, intelligent, charismatic… but the years of working hard to provide for us were starting to take their toll. Once an adult, twice a child, even though glimmers of daddy tried to fight their way through the confusion and frustration. The weakening of the body came after the deterioration of the mind. You forgot things about yourself, you lost moments and memories with me, but still your will to survive remained.

Something in my heart told me that last day that I saw you in the hospital would be our final interactions on this side. You were so tired, even though you fought through your exhaustion to be present. You knew who I was, and even greeted me with a nickname you had not used for me in quite some time. I was able to wrap you tight in blankets and make my peace in that moment. You looked so angelic. So peaceful. I knew you deserved to be free.

To think that between my last post and today, I have lost my father, commemorated another year of my life, and laid my father’s body to rest so that his soul could fly free. I, like him, am no longer the same. He has transitioned to his next state of being, and so have I. I am no longer the same, and I will never be. Though my heart yearns for his presence in the physical, I know that he had to let go, and now I must continue to live. Until it is my time.

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