Today, August 2, is the 103rd anniversary of my father’s birth.
A lot of things have happened since he died back in 2000. I finished the first house Leah and I lived in. He told me the night he died that he was afraid wouldn’t be able to help me work on it. He never got to see it finished.
For years after he died, when I completed some little bit of work on the house, I had the urge to show it to him.
He met Leah before he died, but he had been dead five years before we got married.
My mother died 13 years after he died. I don’t think my father could have handled having her die before him.
We built another house. He never got to walk out onto our front porch and see the view. I wasn’t able to show him the trim I put around the arch on our front living room window.
He never got to see the various RV’s we have had over the years. He and my mother loved traveling with their trailers and in their motorhomes
I couldn’t show him my bright, red truck.
He never got to meet Zeke the dog. Or Sam the dog. Or Zoe the dog. I come from a long line of dog lovers. He would have loved them all.
He never got a chance to walk down Fouche Gap Road with the dogs. He could have named all the birds and all the plants.
He never got to see the foxes that lived around our old house. Or the owl that flew into our garage in our new house.
He didn’t get to see his grandson get married.
Every once in a while I hear a song that I think he would have liked.
My brother died, 18 years after him. That and my mother’s death are two of the few things I’m glad he missed.
I understand why people want to believe in an afterlife, where you can meet your loved ones again. There are a lot of things I would like to talk to my father about.
Good Afternoon,
I am looking for the Clock Tower cross stitch pattern that you had posted on your site. I have a finished copy that my mom did years ago and I would like to do another one but I do not have the pattern. Just thought I would ask if you might be able to help me find it. Thanks so much and I enjoyed reading your posts about Rome. I am from Rome. Rome is a great place to live and to grow up. Lee Anne
Lee Anne, I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to this. I have asked my cousin (whose mother did the Clock Tower) about the pattern, but she doesn’t know where her mother got it. She did it quite a while ago. I’m going to see her soon, so I’ll ask again.
I so deeply understand this lament, this list of things your father never had the chance to see, experience, know. I was just thinking about a list like this one about my father. When you have a good loving dad, their compassionate imprint stays indelibly in your heart. That’s love.
A beautiful remembrance on your dad’s 103rd day of his birth.
Yes, he didn’t get to see all of those things, but imagine all of the things he DID get to see in his life, including raising a son like you are. We each experience our own lives, and I suspect your father’s was rich and full in its own way.
Robin — I do miss my father.
Paul — Of course you’re right. My father had quite a life before I made my appearance.