Monday, November 17, 2008

Hi Dad, It's Me...

It's been three months since I've seen you.

Hard to believe, yet the world keeps on turning, sometimes unfairly. The changing of the seasons is bittersweet, because it's one more reminder that life continues without you.

Three months seems like an eternity.

That's three months since I've walked into your home and found you sitting with your feet up on a footrest, eating from a can of Pringles potato chips.

Three months since I've been able to run the palm of my hand over the "peach fuzz" you had left for hair.

Three months since I've been able to tease you about wearing your white socks pulled up to your calves. Yet you wore them anyway.

Three months since you have walked through the room while pulling up your pants that always seemed to be falling down.

Three months since you've sat next to me at one of Griffin's ballgames, sipping a cup of McDonald's coffee with cream and sweetener. By the way, I drink mine the same way.

Three months since I've hugged you, taking in the scent of your cigars and Head and Shoulders shampoo. You've used that shampoo since I was little. Somehow, I miss it.

Trying to focus on the positive, some good things have happened during the last three months that you have been gone.

Griffin got the game ball in basketball, Saturday. You would have been so proud.

The boys now know all of the words to "Daddy's Little Girl," and ask for "Papaw's song" in the car. That makes me smile.

Hayden now dresses himself, though his underwear is usually on backwards.

They now tease Mamaw that they will "put her in the trash can...and put the lid on it," just like you used to say to them. It makes them giggle.

Griffin wrote his Veteran's Day letter to you, then called me in Nashville to read it over the phone. He told me he saw your picture in your Army uniform at the funeral.

I recently overheard Hayden telling someone while pointing at a star in the sky, "Look, there's my Papaw Mike." The kids talk about you daily.

And finally, three months since I've been able to call and ask for advice. Didn't matter if it was how to fix something, or kid-related, you knew the answer.

We miss you.

7 comments:

Julie said...

Another beautiful tribute to your father. I know I don't know you (just a regular listener and blog follower), but you can tell he was a special, special father...and you are a wonderful daughter.

Thinking of you!

Anonymous said...

Sweet ... very sweet

- Kevin Freeman

Anonymous said...

Deb-
You have had three months of wonderful signs from your Dad,to let you know he is also watching over you.
LD

Anonymous said...

Deb...I loved the photo. I always love how Mom and Dad always had their photo taken with Santa every year!

Kris

Anonymous said...

You make me want to tell all the people I love everything that I love about them... You are such a light in this world that can sometimes seem so dark! keep it up!
love,
kacie

Anonymous said...

Hi Deborah,

I have been a longtime listner & have enjoyed your stories on the radio for sometime now. They are so close to home for me!!! In fact, I think we were at the same hospital at the same time having our children. As you tell your story of Griffin's birth, I think I was giving birth to my little girl Kaitlyn on July 19, 2001 at St. Vincent, in Indpls. Were you & your husband there also? I love laughing at your stories & enjoy your take on life! It really gets my day going!

My girlfriend & I follow your blog everyday to see what spin you have for life. Keep it up! And good luck with the new book writing!

If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your father? I can't imagine loosing my parents at our age, they are way too young!

Thanks for sharing, keep up the great stories!

Kristy

deb said...

Hi Kristy,

Thanks for the nice words. Email me at the station's website if you can...click on Email the morning show.

Deb