Tomorrow

I knew tomorrow would come — it always does. And with “tomorrow” comes the return of routine — morning drive, work, lunch with co-workers, evening drive home and chores upon my return to the house. While I welcome the routine to help me forget what has happened over the last week, the routine somehow doesn’t seem enough.

I know the planet is an emptier place right now. I know because my heart feels it. And I know no routine can fill the void that has been left by the departure of my father from this world. Tomorrow makes a week he’s been gone.

However, routine is what’s left to me, so routine is what I plod along with.

While I was on The Mountain, I listened to Kevio talk about his job, his endeavours, and I’m envious. He works his own schedule, doing exactly what he loves to do, and is making a name for himself. The work I do is a little mundane, and can be a little too political for my tastes, but it is reasonably predictable in frequency, provides a regular paycheck, and assures me of benefits that are helping take care of my family. That’s the balance I’ve opted for — I guess I’m not a big fan of the unknown.

I suppose the thing that I’m the most envious of is Kevio’s close proximity to The Mountain — about 20 minutes away. He’s gotten to enjoy dad on an almost daily basis over the last few years, while I moved away to chase a career. That’s time that I can’t have back, and now is impossible to make up.

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s bravery that’s put Kevio where he is, or if it’s simply dumb luck. Either way, I wish him well in building his empire. It certainly won’t be routine.