I remember it all. Sewn together by an unexplainable light. Something like magic. I know it beams. There’s something infinite about a memory. It transplants moments into your soul and that’s worth having and knowing and loving because it mattered. Sometimes I still dream about my dad. He shines like something I’ve never seen and when I wake up I replay the scene on loop. I guess there’s peace in endings. Even the sad ones. I think all endings are laced in some sort of sadness. You feel that way too, right? Tell me the truth. Tell me how you handle finality. Tell me how we’re not meant to understand the complex things of this world and next. Tell me that having a sense of faith is like air- how you need it in order to survive and even though you can’t see it, you know it’s there. The latticework of these moments connect somewhere in between my mind and soul. They make up my spirit and I know that’s the part that lives forever. Just like my memory. Just like my dad. -AMT ©️