Gone Fishin'
The Gem State | 2024 © E.E.
In a mid-August ATV accident, the man whom I have considered my dad for the last fifty-plus years abruptly departed for the great beyond.
No surprise, I am heartbroken, but I do take some solace in knowing that he died doing what he loved: rockhounding, in search of prized geological samples that would eventually become hand-cut and polished stones, which he mounted into one-of-a-kind necklaces.
As the shock wears off and I navigate the painstaking grief process, I cannot help but think about how I heard "divorce is like death" from more than one divorcee as I went through my own in 2013.
Looking back on that heavy-hearted period, like anyone who is blind to the truth, I took that wisdom as gospel until the human who introduced our family to classical music and taught me to recognize beauty in all its forms in nature and art was no longer available to answer my calls and texts.
Now, three weeks after his passing, I realize that a dissolution of marriage, which provides glimmers of possibility, is not remotely equivalent to the gut-wrenching silence of death.
As my BFF, whose father died in 2020, shared, "death is final. Any unsaid words, apologies, etc., have nowhere to go." So, if you take anything away from this perspective, let it be a gentle reminder to speak your piece with loved ones, ensuring that no stone is left unturned.
Admittedly, I have lost my footing, and I am taking time to adjust to the reality that I can no longer, in this lifetime, overindulge in Jelly Belly jelly beans or laugh out loud with my Pops E. However, once I get my groove back, I will continue to heed "keep percolating" sage advice from an old-school influencer who guided me on how to ice skate, ride a bike, fly fish, absorb the wonder of the Aurora Borealis, and, most importantly, no matter what, get back up.
Until we meet again, in honor and memory of my dad, scatter seeds of love, joy and hope. ❤️
Yours in Solidarity, -akm
September 2025