Father's Day

Father’s day… That old familiar ache in my heart returns along with a lump in my throat. I become distant as that day grows closer, not taking in much of anything anyone has to say … my only thoughts of you. I find the sweater I gave you on Father’s Day, 12 years ago; when you sat on the porch in the blistering heat, wearing it, and a toque, shaking because you were cold. I put the sweater on and feel you close to me, and go for my morning walk along a no exit gravel road in the early morning, wanting to be alone with you and my random thoughts, knowing, more than likely, there won’t be a single car pass me. On the Road again by, Willie Nelson, runs through my mind; the song you requested be played at your celebration of life; the song that defined you…a free spirit who finally found what you had been looking for, when ill health forced you to stop roaming, and for 23 years after your heart attack, you became the father I had so longed for. I see you now, sitting on the kitchen floor playing with your grandchildren, completely content, your contagious laughter making me laugh, your sparkling eyes, looking into mine, speaking volumes without saying a word. I think of the days proceeding your passing, and you in your feeble voice, singing to mom, those lyrics from ‘Last Fairwell’, by Roger Whittaker," ‘for you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly, more dearly than the spoken words can tell". And as the sun rises over the hill, I swallow the lump in my throat, and continue on down the road. In loving memory of my dear father, Harold George, October 25 1927 - August 11,2003