OUT OF THE PARK

The CLOUD CHAMBER

man in baseball hat painting 1

        Anything is possible.

Few things are probable.

When something transcends probability it is called a miracle.

I died.

I died while you were yet my little girl.  My sweet little “Sassafras”.  And yet I cannot go on past this moment.  I remain with you always.

Life goes on miraculously and with divine cruelty.  I can see you.  I cannot touch you anymore.  Yet I feel you tenderly the way I once felt my very breath.  You cannot see me anymore.  Yet you feel my nudge whenever you lose your way.

I chose you as my light when I died to the world.

I have become your Guardian Angel, my Sassafras, like the ones in those bedtime stories that I used to read to you.

I feel you thinking, “Where was your Guardian Angel, Daddy?”

Daddy’s Guardian Angel was watching the big game with Daddy and I guess Daddy couldn’t…

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