god moving over the face of the waters

today is a monday.

i remember when i was little that sometimes, when my dad was watching baseball, i would crawl up on the couch next to him and watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. more often that not i would end up tucked under his left arm, validating my connection to my father by breathing in the same rhythm, echoing the rise and fall of his chest with my own, small one.

today is a monday. and today my father died.