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Man of Gold

Old is gold
In this case, it is but a memory
A man of his word, a man full of life
Today, he’s nothing but dust buried in the ground
Memories… they last
But they last for only as long as you want
When memories begin to fade, guilt seeps in
You wonder if it really is a choice or out of human habit
Life goes on but this part of life will forever be missed

My father, a man of gold. He shone bright even on my darkest days. Priceless even today in my heart. Still a pillar of strength, still an inspiration. He’s made me who I am, he makes me who I am. Those last words are worth living by, “You make or break yourself“, he said. Supernatural beings may or may not exist, the debate goes on. But I feel his presence around me even when I’m not consciously thinking about it.

We curse our situations, we curse our lives. But today, it seems like a blessing. To have had the chance to live with a man of great substance.

Gold is beautiful and so was he
Gold is priceless and so was were his words
Gold is valuable and so was my time with him
Gold shapes into what you want and so do his memories
Blessings to name are a few but invaluable when thought of. And here is one!
A self-made man and intelligent. Calm and composed. Prayerful and loyal. Beautiful and humble. And yet today, so distant and away.

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