July 23, 2016: Punishment
I did not attend the funeral. A mix of apathy and resentment competed for the reason behind my absence, at least in my own mind. Time passed and my heart grew in parallel to the experiences I lived. I forgot so that I can forgive, but I got it all wrong. As I sat on my rocking chair, by now creaking with every swing, I watched my son chase a butterfly. My old heart began to swell. I saw myself chasing those butterflies, and imagined myself looking up at him in the rocking chair, unaware that I would not attend his funeral. I hadn’t forgotten a thing, and my heart swelled further. I gasped for air as the sight around me blurred thicker and thicker. I wish I saw him catch that butterfly. My punishment for not learning to forgive.