A re-post from last year. He's be 75 today. ------------------------------------------------- He'd be 74 today. My dad. His birthday so close to his first grandchild. Today. They celebrate together. In heaven. Life has been full here. School starting. College girl back to school. The oldest farm girl leaving those sweet farmettes to impart knowledge on the next generation. The farm boy restless again. Searching. Stretching. The younger two growing. Blossoming. Here I am in this sea of emotions. Swept along. Washing clothes, planning meals, doing ... View Post
Lots of Celebrating in Heaven
He'd be 74 today. His birthday so close to his first grandchild. Today. They celebrate together. In heaven. Life has been full here. School starting. College girl back to school. The oldest farm girl leaving those sweet farmettes to impart knowledge on the next generation. The farm boy restless again. Searching. Stretching. The younger two growing. Blossoming. Here I am in this sea of emotions. Swept along. Washing clothes, planning meals, doing bookwork. Discovering a quiet house every once in a while. A strange sound. Today, I think on my dad. I miss him. The whole ... View Post
Whom Shall I Fear?
I cut his hair. This man I call dad. My hero. Handsome. Fun. Handy. Now ordered and known intimately by the memory thief. He cracks a few jokes. We visit. It's time to go. I can feel the lump. The elevator; a mind of it's own today. My brother and I stand and wait. It's the leaving. I head to my car. I call my farmer. I can barely talk. I list off the "not right's" and the pain of the past 27 months. All the losses. So many. It clouds my ... View Post
He Held All These Moments First
There are no Christmas decorations. Actually there is no one home. I do not have my key, because it is still on the key chain that I can hardly bear to look at. So different from the years gone by. There are leaves all over the driveway and yard. More signs of change. Dad always kept his yard free of leaves and such. It's almost too much to bear. The heaviness and magnitude of all that is gone weighs me down. Each step towards the door; agonizing. I notice everything out of place. I see what's been moved. New pictures on ... View Post
