this day, 75 years ago, my father was born. and even though he's gone, we are still going to celebrate his birthday ~ really, his life. more than that, we will celebrate our lives and how they were better because we knew him.
he hated snow, and we keep getting it this winter. we got some last night and this morning and it is just beautiful. he would still somehow make it to panera for his morning ritual, but he'd complain about this stupid white stuff all day long. "is this how it's gonna be all winter long?"
we were all so concerned about him shuffling around on the ice this winter. he had taken this antibiotic a year ago, that left him with a balance issue. so we watched him shuffle around, constantly unsteady. unsteady is not a word i ever imagined i would use to describe my dad. he was steady, consistant, balanced. he did everything in moderation, except work.
it seems like the minute he died, i started turning back the clock of his life. for about two weeks, i was stuck on my growing up years. on a winter day like this, he would have come in to wake me up for school, starting with the weather report. "it's snowing out there, babes. it's sooo cold. man. i like to never got the cars cleaned off." then he would quickly say, "did you know that in 120 days, we'll be on the warm, sunny, white sands of pensacola beach?" or whatever huge number it was. he was counting the days until vacation.
but now, a month later, the clock is stuck on his 20's. i have no idea why. but i'm starting to think that maybe this is the age he is in heaven. his time in the army was some of the best times of his life, and before he got sick and almost died. so i'm thinking he's 20 or 21 up there. no one knows exactly how it works, and i don't normally care about the details of heaven. but now that i know he's up there, i find myself daydreaming about it. my sister thinks he's working on cars up there and doing handy fix-up jobs. my mom thinks he's playing music. i think he's drinking coffee with his sisters.
so, as i'm drinking my coffee this wintery morning of his 75th birthday, here's to you, dad.
4 comments:
I heart you!
I love that you think of Dad in his twenties. It is interesting the different perspectives we have when thinking about Dad. I think we view him in Heaven the ways we were most like him. Maybe that helps us grieve. Anyway, I just miss him horribly.
Your mom gave me your blog and I just loved your note on my brother,your dad. I miss him calling about every day.He would have called and checked on how much snow we got down here compared to Jeff. I can say that he was my favorite brother because he never judged me or Harley. He always made me comfortable. I loved having beans and your dad and mom would just happen to stop by. He just loved beans and hamhock. With cornbread, ofcourse. I think of your dad being retired(which he loved every minute of) and going to have coffee at Penara or McDonalds and read his paper. When there was articals in there about anything in Alaska he would call me and tell me about it. He always ask me about my kids and grandkids. He seemed to be so concerned and really liked to know how they are. Just needed to let you know that we still think of him daily.I have never been around anyone like him, so loving and full of life. Wanda
Hi Aunt Wanda!
Thank you for commenting! I love what you said about dad never judging and always making you feel comfortable. Those are two things I work very hard at, and will now more than ever, now that he's gone. I still can't believe he's gone. I agree with Beth ~ I think we all just miss him horribly.
I have thought about you a lot during these last few months, imaging what an impact this must have on your life. I didn't talk to him as much as you did, and you really were closer to him than I was. I hope you will call my mom whenever you need to talk, or hear the weather report!
Love, Sarah
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