I saw my dad for the last time a little over eight years ago. When I left his house that day, I knew I’d never see him again. As we backed our car out of the driveway, I just sobbed from somewhere deep in my soul. I got the call that he’d died late on November 27th.
I miss the warmth in his voice. I miss the out of control laugh. I miss him yelling at the Browns. I miss the knowledge he had about so many things. I miss his delicious ribs. I miss his uncanny ability to give directions from anywhere to anywhere.
The last time I saw him, he said, “Oh Lisa, you’re here.” So, he knew. He knew I was there. I told him I’d see him on the other side. I would be the little girl in the yellow dress, and he would be the young man tending to the garden.
We’ll see where this takes us…