I am lost at sea- floating in this world because you have left it. I knew that I would be without you at one point but wasn’t expecting to navigate this world alone. Were you such an anchor for me? Were you so important that I find myself lost without you? I had outgrown you, understood that I could sail on my own, that I didn’t need your approval, that my navigation, even in its difference from yours, was quite skilled. I could see horizons obscured from your view and my steering brought you to them. And so why do I find myself bobbing up and down, drowning, feeling so all alone? And where are you? How does your absence have such a presence in my life? And where do i go now without you as my compass, my security, my centering- when will I see that it wasn’t you who was steering in the end? I am afraid to be the captain because it means you are gone. It’s not so much that I needed you anymore, I wanted you. You had become my companion, my ship’s mate- something I never expected from a father, but that’s where you took rest in the end. And so how do i sail on it without you? How do I move from a drowning swimmer to the purposeful and capable sailor I was when you were alive. You play no role in this anymore- this ocean is no longer your home. My sailing is alone. And yet, I know, I am not swimming alone in this ocean. It is a sea of survivors, thrown overboard by fate. Finding our way back to our boats to sail solo is our life’s responsibility. We have no choice. It’s the drowning that’s a betrayal of you, not the impulse to swim.