As I walk across the crosswalk, I glance at the tires on the cars beside me spinning round and round. I seem to have an off feeling about cars, not knowing I had made it to the other side of the crosswalk as I was too busy gazing at the cars.
It was a clear day with not a cloud in the sky, suddenly I come to a stop, to see a puddle. It was as if there was a mirror right on the ground. The puddle reminded me of my father who had died a few years back, he loved when it rained. There is a specific memory I remember, of me and my father. Whenever it rained, me and my father would splash in the puddles to see who had the biggest splash. I told myself after I watched his heart stop in the hospital, to always have a smile on my face when I would come across a puddle. But in this moment—I didn't have a smile, rather a tear.
The interruption of the puddle had gone away. I had almost forgot I needed to get home. I resumed to my routine and strolled until the next crosswalk, I pressed the button to walk. As the light turned to the walk signal, I took a few steps forward. I felt a familiar energy hold my palm, it was as if someone was holding my hand. I opened my hand to see if just in case it was something I was holding, but my hand was empty.
I had stopped, confused and anxious. Trying to figure out this familiar energy. It wasn't just energy, it was a calling. Then, out of the blue, it was like my soul had bursted out from my body. The energy was still there, but the soul that was connecting with my hand, was like a clear picture. It was him, my father. No longer anxious and confused. Just relieved and I finally felt loved once again.
We were yet still on the cross walk but haven't finished walking the rest of the way, we walk hand and hand, almost to the other side. I look back, there is a child laying in the middle of the road? Is she okay? I wasn't concerned, I felt finally free, with my father. But the child felt like the puddle, it was like—a mirror.
