thirteen years

i got this text message from my sister today:

he has been gone half my life. weird.

our dad was killed in a motorcycle accident thirteen years ago today. june 24, 1995. it's INSANE for me to think that after today, he'll have been gone from my sister's life longer than he was in it. he's been dead HALF A LIFETIME.

as a person who's lost both parents at a relatively young age (mine and theirs), i sometimes have trouble finding any sort of silver lining in the thunderclouds that surround both their deaths. i know, no more suffering. [my father was an alcoholic -- accident was his fault. side note: it still makes my face hot with shame to admit that. my mom was very ill with COPD.] but more often than not, i get lost in the whole "but i was JUST A KID" stuff.

today, though, i can say that even though it's been so long, i still remember his laugh. i still remember the lines on his face when he would laugh. i still feel a small contentment when i hear a harley davidson roar by as if to let me know he's watching and he knows what we've done with our lives. that is nice. it gives me peace and that's really the most you can hope for.