Another beautiful, quiet Sunday morning. The sun is finally shining again and the temps are trying to get back to normal, although at 6:30 a.m. I still had to wear a turtleneck and hoodie.After finishing my usual route I decided to take care of a few errands before untying the running shoes and settling in at home for the day.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day and this means my yearly pilgrimage to the cemetery to place flowers on my Dad's grave. My visit this morning was brief, just a quick look to make sure that all was in order, place the mum in the appropriate place, another quick turn to acknowledge my grandparents and then back in the car to return home.
I don't go to the cemetery to visit with my Dad. He is with me every day. Every penny, nickel, dime and quarter that I pick up reminds me of him. I think of him whenever I find a golf ball and put it in the overflowing jar in the garage. Homage is paid when I come across an old, run-over screwdriver in the street and tenderly carry it home to add to my collection. Athena and Eris understand this.
Dad was a quiet, loving man. Throughout my life I never doubted his love for me. He was there to help raise my daughters when I most needed him. I'm sure there were many times he disagreed with decisions I made but he wisely stayed silent. He is still there when I need comforting.
I miss him.
$3.24 (a new record, for Dad)
3 comments:
That was mean. I miss him too.
Real mean.
Hey, I wasn't trying to be mean. The *really mean* photos are still in the book waiting for another day.
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