…you will be the young man tending the garden…

...the young man tending the garden...

…the young man tending the garden…

 

Nine years have passed since I last saw my dad alive. When I left his house that day, I knew I would never see him again. My soul actually hurt. My soul hurts again today. It’s raw, like it was that day. That’s when I did my mourning. When I knew I’d never see him again. I miss him everyday of course, but today…today, the feeling of loss is almost overwhelming. I know I won’t feel like this everyday, but for now the intensity of how much I miss him burns white hot.

We’ll see where this takes us…

 

 

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Thoughts for today

my dad (taken by 3 year old patrick)

my dad (taken by 3 year old patrick)

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…

 

 

I took a short trip this morning

In the back yard of the house on Anita Drive

In the back yard of the house on Anita Drive

Early this morning as I walked outside, the slightly humid breeze seemed to transport me, just for the briefest instant, back about 45 years. The sunshine and the smell of the air landed me square in our backyard on Anita Drive. The thing is, I really felt for that blink of an eye, that I was actually there.

It was the beginning of the seemingly endless summer vacation. Long days spent playing with neighborhood friends, riding our bikes, swimming in the neighbor’s pool, or just making mud pies. Laundry was on the line.The grownups sat in the metal “S” chairs, smoking Chesterfield no-filters and visiting. The garden was beginning to bloom.

For one fleeting moment, I was once again the little girl in the yellow dress, and the young man was tending the garden.

We’ll see where this takes us…

 

 

Dad things #1

My dad took me to see David Cassidy when I was eight. I actually remember what I wore. A navy blue jumper that had gold buttons, white piping, and a flouncy red skirt. Under that was a navy and white spotted blouse. A very chic chiffon scarf held together with a gold slide-y ring thing adorned my neck.

I do not remember what my dad wore.

We’ll see where THIS takes us…