I called the garbage service to discontinue the service. I checked the mailbox for the last time. Why so sad? You didn’t live at this house. My memories aren’t really here. Why so sad?
You said you were tired and now one less thing to do. Why aren’t you happy? The sold sign flashing to the neighbors that the man inside no longer lives here. One more hour and I turn over the keys of another man’s house. His freedom, his choices and what he called home. Why so sad?
It’s a sign that he is entering yet another season in his life. A stak reminder that where he is I too will be. Why so sad….because the man is my dad.
