The final view

A tight knot formed in my stomach as I tried to grapple with the reality. I would be really leaving my home. The only home I ever knew and had. Though simple and austere, this was where I had found warmth, comfort and when I concentrated, there even in the remotest corner I could see lurking the smiling, compassionate image that beamed down upon me. An image that fails to wipe itself off my memory. An image that even after 17 years of separation still lingers vividly in my mind. An image that I crave to stifle with my hug, smother with my kisses, pin down to the earth and crush with the weight of my being.
How could this be happening to me, I wondered as my eyes smarted, hot tears welling up at will. Was it not enough that I had to contend with an irreplaceable absence from my life? Now I had to leave the only abode where I still felt the presence, where every nook and corner conjured up images of another life of a past nestled in comfort, snug in love, embedded in security.
Peering out of the window, I espied the lone verdant relief on the road. The final view.
I hopped on to the bed, resting my head on his pillow. Picking up a magazine I began to skim through in his style. I was he. I breathed hard, gulping in the still air. Was it imagination or did a familiar perfurme wafting through the mournful air tingle my nose?
I looked around. I decided, I became strong. Take me out of my home, but could you take my home out of me? Victory grinned at me as I simpered back. I would carry him with me to my new dwelling. I would place him there, hold him there, bore him with my poor jokes, fret him with my silly worries, inundate him with my myriad queries and lie to him when in the wrong. That's what I would do and suddenly my world became bright. My happy past would water my uncertain future. I would love him till death. My father, who left me to occupy God's acre when I was 11.
But I never lost him. He still lives with me!