Ever Near: Threads of Him

Ever Near: Threads of Him, By Ciann Masi

Last week, we laid my dad to rest.

As a little girl, I felt him everywhere. He guided me with quiet patience. He noticed the small things that made me happy. He celebrated my discoveries, encouraged my curiosity, and made ordinary days feel special. His care wrapped around me, steady and constant, even in moments I barely understood. As I grew, his presence shifted but never wavered, guiding me even as the world grew larger.

The day I left home, the world felt wide and unfamiliar. I carried my life in a few bags and my heart full of anticipation and uncertainty. Moving 3,500 miles away for college, I stepped into a world that was new in every sense. And it was the first time I saw my dad cry.

My father made me feel cared for in countless ways. He sent letters, small packages, and surprises to remind me I was loved. Sometimes it was something practical. Sometimes it was something playful to make me smile. Every package carried more than its contents. It carried him.

He took my side and supported me in ways that made life feel steadier. He celebrated small victories. He laughed at life’s small wonders with me. He noticed details that others might overlook. Those quiet, simple moments made me feel seen. They are the memories I carry forward.

Honoring him means keeping those moments close. It means letting his care and thoughtfulness inspire how I move through life. How I notice. How I give. How I show up for the people around me. Even now, I feel him in small acts. In offering attention. In pausing to listen. In noticing something that matters to someone else. His love continues in the way it shaped me and the ways I choose to carry it forward.

Threads of Him

I feel him in the rhythm of my thoughts

in the stillness that holds the morning light

in the way the air moves silently

He moves with me through ordinary hours

in laughter that rises unexpectedly

in lessons spoken without words

in courage that touches my own

I carry him in the way the world opens

in patience that grows from memory

in strength I did not know I had

until it reached me through him

Sometimes I feel him in the pause between heartbeats

folding into the world around me

touching moments I do not name

guiding them quietly, without sound

In loving memory

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