Lately, I've been reminiscing about my beloved, deceased father. It's been decades since he went "on ahead" so unexpectedly. Although the great amount of time has offered healing, there's no question that I still feel a deep longing to be reunited with him.

In rapidly and thickly applying acrylic on this claybord, a figure in rigorous motion emerged. The words, "Hey, wait for me" burst into my mind followed by a feeling that I was left behind.

My father and I were unusually close. My mother told me of all my sisters, I was the sensitive one who always had to be near and touching him; that I thrived on the contact and our connection.

Flourishing emotionally and physically without him has been a lifelong, challenging journey. As a child, I certainly could not understand why he didn't take me with him. As an adolescent and adult, I often felt like he left me alone in the woods.