When my Dad passed away, it was like someone had ripped the carpet out from underneath my feet. It wasn’t a slow sort of graceful carpet grabber. More or less, it was like everything on the planet had crashed and shattered. I could not catch my breath. I missed him so profoundly that it filled my soul with heartache that it is incapable of describing. Since he died, it has been two years, nine months, and seven days. It’s been 33 months, seven days. It’s been 144 weeks and three days. It’s been 1011 days, and it’s been 24,264 hours, and it has been 1,455,840 minutes and 87,350,400 seconds.
Yesterday, I, of course, attended the American Legion Service of Remembrance. For me quietly to honor of my Dad, for which I need no accolades. At the beginning of each service, I think this will be the year that I fortify my Dad’s memory with more honor and fewer tears. I make it through “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “God Bless America,” both songs I am very proud of as I am of my country. The third, I begin to hear the bugle brilliantly playing “Taps,” and my heart fills with a tidal wave of tears that I have been holding back. It builds softly in my throat. I step on my toes, trying not to start crying. On June 12th, it is my Dad’s heavenly birthday, and even as the end of May approached, I was already thinking of his birthday, and he would have been 72 years young!
I am a quiet, thoughtful person, yet I love words. I may not say much, but I have a lot to say. People are often quick to judge things they know very little about, and I can only say that there may very well be more perspective at the gates of Heaven. #KindnessMatters
Forest of Words 