Father Figures

My father was an extroverted musician recognized among people, but he had rituals in his privacy that only belonged to him and the family. One of them was woodwork. When I see wood I immediately think of my father, because he was like it: strong, robust, useful, multifaceted.

I imagine that there was an identity relationship that perhaps he unconsciously had with the wood. Ironically, or perhaps coincidentally, his ashes were delivered to us in a wooden box. A box that could have been made by him.

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