Dear Dad,

I know you’ve been gone for at least seven years but it doesn’t seem that long ago. I feel it is like this because unfortunately there was a life for me after you. But best believe I did not get over your death and the pictures of the past help heal or continue to give me insight about what you would have said or done to help me get through. This picture was a time when life was much simpler. It has a sense of nostalgia. It is such a loaded picture but it wasn't when it was taken. The scene from the Aquarium shows our family's dynamic based on what I thought was happening. The death of you was a crucial point in my life and I often wonder what it would be like if my dad raised me past the age of ten alongside mom.

In the moment the picture was taken, your side of the family was in town visiting for Christmas break. This was some of my family's first time in Atlanta and something fun to do was to make a trip to the newly renovated Georgia Aquarium. It was a cold December morning, but not cold enough to wear the puffy, beige bubble coat from the year before. It took around two hours for all of the extended family to mobilize. This is due to the hectic nature of our family gatherings then tack on insubordination that is what seems to be assigned to young children. Most of your family is above 5'6 and being eight at the time made the all seem to tower over me. The sea of giants was not what intimidated me but, the fact that they all scream over each other to speak. So in a way, if you weren't loud you weren't heard. Dad, you were the main aggressor to the noise that was already produced. However, whatever you said always seemed to have so much thought behind it that we couldn't help but listen.

You always emitted the feeling of being the smartest in the room. At times this could be a little overwhelming but not on this particular day. Your extensive knowledge of what presumed to be everything aided in the understanding of marine life. To me, you always had a way of explaining that when you were done we always felt as if you could write a novel on what had been presented to you.

At around ten o’clock on that sunny Saturday, we approached the enormous sculpture that was the aquarium. The powder blue sky casted a shadow that forced the building to appear as if it was so large that it curve was formed at the peak. The mass that was my family seemed to emit a low buzz of excitement. It might have also been the roar of I-85 that created this feeling. Personally, the jitters had been welling up inside me since my mom told me the game plan of the day before. We all weren’t there just for the fish, the bonding that came along with the rare family get together evoked a need for strong relationships. I try constantly to surround myself with relationships the family would approve of. Everyone within the family tree has the ability to read people correctly. I am currently in the process of developing this super power.

Based on the look on everyone's face in the photo, it was deep into the tour. The feeling of fatigue appeared to have engulfed our cousin, Chaz. You and Kayla were listening intently to whatever mom was saying. Of course Tré, our brother was off in his own world. The small shark toy that you and mom must have bought him held his attention better than mom did. That might explain the reason her mouth is ajar and her hand is partially extended in his direction. I feel she must have been frustrated after the long day of entertainment and family. Tragically, I don’t remember what happened as you all crowded around the black granite table in the dimly lit room of another aquatic exhibit. The lady with the blue Georgia Aquarium sweatshirt must have tried to inform our family about the objects and pictures encased in the dark stone. This assumption is based on the way she is standing at the opposite end of mom with her fingers interlaced. After whatever ensued in this moment, I do remember us going to the wall of engraved, silverfish. The reason we were there dad was because you had a surprise for us all. Unknowingly our names were on one of those thousands of piece metal. Distinctly, I felt a sense of pride and ownership of the aquarium. Dad, you later told the family that you had donated money to the aquarium under our names. This was a small representation of things you would do for others on daily basis. You had a saying "Only what you do for others will last". This was one of those times.

That hectic day staring at fish is one of my fondest memories of you and the entire family. I might never know what was happening at the black table but I know it had some hidden truth buried in the conversation. The most important thing I learned from you is to constantly give even without others knowing. I strive to be more like you every day. I have not been to the aquarium since that cold day in December but, I will always think of you when the day I return does come.

Sincerely,
Your Youngest