Falling leaves, National Novel Writers Month, all the gateways to winter. Today while I was supposed to be writing I took time to blow the leaves off the driveway. No small feat as it takes me an hour for our long driveway. The leaves, all yellow and brown and green, some bigger than a dinner plate, the fleshy part sticking to the pavement, remind me that this is the season that Dad loved more than any other. I never knew what spurred his love of fall, but he always said that this was his favorite season.
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.
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.