Letting Go....

I am a sentimental fool. A few weeks after Dad died I came across the plastic bag from the hospital filled with his personal belongings. Inside I found his worn out brown corduroy jacket, his watch and his wallet. Of all the things he left behind, these I treasured most. He wore them, he touched them, he used them everyday. I didn't want to let my daddy go.... Keeping these tokens meant that I never would. In fact, there was half a pack of Winston's in the breast pocket. I used to take the cigarettes out and smell them. It was comforting.

Comforting and painful. I hung that jacket in my dorm closet throughout college. The watch and the wallet had a special place on top of my dresser. I refused to forget. I prided myself on never letting a day go by that I didn't think about him. And if I did forget, I punished myself with awful guilt. I was a prisoner to memories. I didn't realize that I was robbing myself.

The jacket was packed in a box during one of our moves and I have never been able to find it. His watch has an honored place in my jewelry box. His wallet is tucked away in the trunk where I keep old love letters and such.....

It has taken me years to understand that my dad's memory is much bigger than the stuff he carried around. I hear him in my Uncle Steve's laugh, I see him in my adolescent nephew, I feel him when my temper gets the best of me. He's in my life as much today as he was eighteen years ago. I just had to let go to find him again. A lesson slowly learned..... I can let go, I can let go.....

I came across the wallet awhile back. I was hunting for some pictures. I didn't lament or sob. I just picked it up and gave it a little kiss. Because I miss that guy!

There is No "Step" in F-A-T-H-E-R

I've been reaching into my past lately and digging up some old memories, mostly sweet ones. Just last month I spent a few days relishing my dad's funny antics. I enjoy "remembering"; what a pity it would be to forget. However, some of my trips into yesteryear are tinged with grief and a tad bit of bitterness. For instance, my late teen years were really the pits! Dad was gone, my older sisters were gone, my little sister hated me and Mom had the audacity to remarry and move to Texas!

By simply marrying my mother, Bob became Public Enemy #1. I cried more at their wedding than I did at my father's funeral. I was secretly determined to make the man so miserable that he would be forced to run for his life....I didn't know who I was up against. There isn't a whole lot of drama and gun smoke around Bob. He is who is. My refusal to clean my room, even for the real estate agent, didn't seem to ruffle his feathers. When I declared my independence to stay in Virginia versus moving to Texas, he didn't put up a fight. Before I knew it, I was all grown up and my parents were thousands of miles away.

Over the years, this blended family has lost that uncomfortable, awkward feeling. Weddings, babies and funerals have sewn us tightly together. I'm a little fuzzy on when Bob became more than just my mother's husband. Could it have been when he was baking hams, while dressed in a tuxedo, mere hours before our wedding reception? Was it when he drove through the night (on more than one occasion) so that Mom could be here when the baby was born? Was it because he took such tender care of my beloved grandfather? Because he loves my mama? Because he's a fabulous grandfather?

Maybe, it was when my arms got too tired of pushing him away and I finally let him embrace me with his love. My sisters came around a long time ago.....I've always been a slow learner.

Goodbye Papa

Wayne's grandfather went to heaven this morning. When a person seems larger than life, it's hard to let them go! He was a wonderful, wonderful man. I loved him and will miss him dearly. He has left us with an enormous legacy....

A Dad to Remember!

November 24. I make a conscience effort not to memorialize this day. Yet, when I realize that it's here, my heart skips a beat and my throat closes up. We said goodbye to our dad seventeen years ago. It's hard to believe that it's been that long ago. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him.

He had the ability to make an ordinary day.....magical. Candy always tasted better when he bought it just for me at 7-11! All five of us wrestling with him on the floor. He could turn a hilly country road into "tummy ticklers". He perfected stupid car trivia...."Cloris Leachman Fun Facts"....It's scary that I even remember this torture! Skipping Sunday School and having breakfast at Shoney's! Paying me to spy on my older sisters. Waking up in the middle of the night for a "snick snack". Water gun wars. His "world famous" Goobley Gosh. His love/hate relationship with Fred the dog. Threatening to break my first date's legs. Singing "Reba Jackson" at the top of our lungs.......

I'm sure my sisters could add much more to this list. The fact is, I miss him, just as much today as I did in 1992. He wasn't a perfect father, but he was a wonderful dad! He'd often ask us, "Do you know how much I love you?" I did. Our time with him was too short....but it was full! I am grateful.