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  • Writer's picturesylveahollis

Celebrating Dad's Life

Updated: Apr 12

My father died on February 9, 2024.

Before I got the call about his passing, I went for an early morning run. 

It was still dark.

I saw something in my path on the sidewalk. It was a black bird.

I wondered if it was injured.

The bird was not moving.

I pulled out my phone to snap a photo.

The moment felt special.

The bird stood confidently before me, but then it quickly flew away.

Upon passing the space where it had been, I heard a loud chirping in my ear. Piercing.

I thought of dad.

My mind shifted quickly.

"If anything were wrong, I would have received a call."

I decided my anxiety made me think of him. He was fine.

"Keep running."

I briefly passed a cemetery on my route.

The run ended with a vibrant pinkish-purple sunrise in the faint distance.

I captured the image.

The photo pales in comparison.

I walked through the front door and assembled ingredients for my post-run shake.

The phone rang.

It was my aunt telling my father had just died.

I can’t explain the feeling, but the message I received on my run that morning was special, clear, and consistent.

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