Isolation Journals Day 1

​Hey Dude,

You don't know me. But you cross my mind every couple of months. I saw you when I was shopping with my friends on a random Saturday morning, more than 7 years ago. I was 15, it was a little while after my dad's car accident. I was walking past Pick 'n' Pay when I saw the back of you. 

It jolted me, my whole body reacted before my mind consciously knew what was happening. It took a couple of minutes, but I realised I thought you were my dad. I don't even remember what you looked like, but the safari type cap you had on was one that he used to wear often. And something about your stature reminded me of him, your black hair too. 

My friends were quite taken aback by sudden stop and look of shock on my face. I remember them tapping me "Stace, are you okay? What's wrong?"

It wasn't even a moment to you, it was probably a typical grocery run, maybe you had just watched your kids playing soccer at school, you probably didn't even see me but that moment - it made such an impact on me. How do you tell your friends that you thought a perfect stranger was your dad?

I was in the thick of grief, and seeing you both comforted me and completely shook me. I missed dad so much. And some part of me truly thought you were him. It still fascinates me that my body knew before my mind did. It was a visceral reaction. My whole body was covered in goosebumps. Like a primal part of me calling out for my dad. 

So maybe you go about your days thinking that you aren't that important. But you made a mark on me. Someone thinks about you every couple of months. I wonder if your face looked like dad. Maybe you did see me. 

Maybe I reminded you of someone too. I hope you are well today. I hope you are happy and still wear that cap. Thank you for that moment. 

I needed it, even though it kinda shook me up. My body's reaction to seeing you was reminded me that it wasn't just my mind, it was my whole being that knew dad. That missed dad. It made the grief feel heavier, but also lighter. Like dad was real, it wasn't something I dreamed up.

Love, the girl with brunette hair and hazel eyes you walked past on a random Saturday more than 7 years ago.

​You can always come back to the things you once loved. Always. They have not gone. They are still there. No shame is welcome here. You are allowed to let go. You are allowed to pick up your paintbrush, pen, dancing shoes, golf club, riding boots again. Maybe they can teach you something new. Maybe you will find something you need. Maybe you will feel the joy you did all those years ago. You’re allowed to want that feeling again. You don’t need to feel shame for how long it has been. Just follow your hearts tug. Maybe it will lead you all the way back to your first loves. Maybe it will tell you to let go.