The sting is fading a little. I miss you everyday. But it no longer makes me draw in a sharp breathe and experience acute physical pain on a daily basis. I know that there will still be days and moments and gaps in time when I will only feel the intense loss so deeply that I cannot breathe. Cannot function as a human being.
These days though, I'm able to smile and chuckle and generally enjoy that every day there are multiple times that I think about a connection to the day that brings me to you. "Dad would be so proud..." "My dad would have torn through that field and chased that coyote...." "The bucks my dad got were bigger....." "My dad was a problem solver. He knew how to create and fix and build things."
I wonder about your artistic side. Those metal sculptures you used to make. The barbwire windmills. And so many other ways you were artistic. The rough cedar walls in our family room. The fact that you converted a garage into a family room and put in the fireplace rock that you wanted in there and made it the room you dreamed of. I always think about MY artistry. But I see now that you, too, were an artist. And recently I've seen some of Mom's artistic side as well. It's always been there, but I just now was able to look past the end of my own nose and see what was given to me, what was laid out by my dna.
I know that I will never be the same Dad. The day you left, the world got grayer, less loving, less colorful. But now, a year and a half later, I don't feel the sharp spasms of grief every time you cross my mind and my heart. Once again, I am able to feel that love, the tenderness, the warmth of your memory.
Pop (or Pop-O as you would say), I miss you dreadful awful. But it's more bearable now. And it brings a smile to my face as I think about you and how much you taught me; how much you gave me; who you really were.
Pop, your Lynner-skinner loves you. Miss you....
No comments:
Post a Comment