Visiting

my dad.
My childhoods' home.
And
I like
it here.

It is so different
than
any other
place
I can
visit.

There is
dry closet
in the house
and
it is so
cold
these
days.

The temperature
in the house
is not
constant
either.

Drinking
tea.
Oh no,
it means
I need to
visit the crapper
soon again
and more often...

Had a period
when
I did not
like to
come here.

It was when
my dad
forced
my mom
to leave.

But this summer
I realized
I love this
old house.
And a huge garden
with overgrown old
apple trees.

Even though
my dad
is not able to
keep it clean (oh, he vacuumed today just before us arriving!!!)
or in order..
or as cozy as
it used to be.
No.
Because of it all (no cleaning, no order, no cozy)
I like this place.

To see
how
my dad
is getting older.
How it can be
to
get old.
How it can be
to
be
like he is.

And
mostly
how much I can
still
love him.
Despite
all the
disagreements
I have
with the way
he has lived
his life.
How much I
oppose with (even hate)
so many of
his
decisions,
and
foundations
of
his life.
Brrrrrrrr.

And still
in many ways
I look into a mirror
by looking at him...
He is
my dad.

And I do (still)
think
he is a
wonderful
person.

Amazing,
were
the love,
my love
can reach...

Visiting this house
is an
exiting
experience.

Visiting my dad
is
visiting
the corners
of
my heart.