Dad: "Jay - The street light in front of you house just went off."
Jay(Me) - "Yeah, it's been doing that this week."
It was the week you passed away...and my first night alone at the house since. I was sitting outside, hesitant to go inside with my saddness and my guilt - my fear and my mourning, when I called him. I was still shook up. Still processing your departure in my head. Still shocked by finding your letter in my journal and at my instinct to paw through it...knowing you would have left something behind for me.
So, my dad came over to make sure I was okay.
As I saw him approaching, I put the key in the lock and stepped inside. And as he pulled in the streetlight darkened.
We visited for a while and I told him what I thought was the cause for the changing light. And when we finished talking and he stepped outside to leave again, he kind of chuckled as he shouted through the door to me.
"The streetlight just came back on."
The thing that has me thinking about this is...ever since that week I've noticed that my streetlight is the only one that stays lit 24 hours a day. As the others go off...you stay on...it stays on.
I pull in the driveway and into the light everyday...and I know I'm home - but not alone.