For my National Novel Writers Month project I have chosen to write about Dad. Where do I start? He was such a rock in my existence, a pillar of basalt colored by gray banded agates, red garnets, Ellensburg Blue agate, petrified wood, fish fossils and oh so many other colors. There was no end to his influence.
Dad left us to be with his Maker and Mom last June and neither my sister nor I can believe he is gone. Last week we celebrated Mom and Dad’s anniversary on November 12. My sister and her husband and my husband and I all ate dinner together and toasted them.
Today as I blew the leaves off the driveway, freeing them from being plastered to the black pavement I thought of him, how he is free to be without the pain, confinement , confusion or loneliness of his last years. I am thankful for him. And then I thought about how he freed me to be myself. The rain that came down just as I finished joined my tears and washed away toward the ocean we both love. Thanks, Dad. I miss you.