90 years ago on Valentine's Day a little (he used to say )toehead was born about 6 miles east of Phillipsburg near the town of Gretna, Kansas. When our family used to drive by the place where the windmill still stood from that farmstead I would many times say, "That is where Grandpa was born."
Well, it is the second Valentine's day without him now. Many of the memories are not as distinct as they were two years ago. Some of the yearning to see and hear him though are so strong. Lately the thought that I had a couple of months after we lost him of, "O.K. Dad you can come out of hiding now." has been going through my mind. This morning in church (as it is many times while singing at church) we were singing, "When all of God's singers get home." There is a part in the chorus where the bass hits a note and then drops down to a much lower note. We came to that part and I just waited and wanted to hear that low note. Like usual it just had to come from my mind because he was not there to hit it. I looked down at my Mom and there was a tear in her eye. She has been having a hard time lately with this.
If Dad were here I know he would say to just move on. I think I am but it is no fun.
I'll just say that I miss him a lot this February 14 as I am sure many of my family and those that knew him well do too.
Sometimes life is hard. Sometimes you run into an old softie.
3 comments:
I miss him for sure. Like you say, I'm sure we all do. Thanks for honoring him with your memories, your singing, and your love.
I love you, Dad.
Ditto Rita. It honors him and blesses us when you share him and continue to love him so much. Miss him, too. Love you.
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