How many memories will come up unexpectedly in the next year?
I was working on our new website tonight. It’s been in the works for far too long and I need to get it launched before I send out the June mailing. I’d been working steadily for about an hour, when I decided to see if there were better pictures of myself and Rick to add to the site.
I opened Picasa and started scanning all the photos on my Imac. That’s when I found this picture of my dad.
It was taken Sunday, December 13, 2009. I thought back to what was happening in our lives then.
Earlier that spring, we had made Dad move down from his home up north because he had been scammed out of his entire bank account and needed us to take over. He just wasn’t rational about his supposed sweepstakes winnings and kept sending money to scam artists. He was just too old to live alone on the beach, and we all agreed — and convince him — that we wanted him to live near us in the few years he had left. I found him an apartment a few blocks away. We soon had him moved into his new digs, and he was a regular at the diner located just down the road.
Rick and I went to the diner most every Sunday. Sometimes we picked him up, sometimes he was there ahead of us, sometimes he came in while we were eating. He really enjoyed his breakfasts.
I am sure I remember this particular Sunday. He was there when we arrived, and we sat in the booth right next to him, instead of crowding into his. I slid down the huge adjoining booth to get close enough to talk, because he was hard of hearing and I didn’t want to shout.
Wow. It all came rushing back so fast! How can I remember something from nearly 3 years ago so clearly.
He will never be gone. His spirit is still with us, in our hearts, our minds, and our memories. I feel like I can still talk to him, because is presence is so strong. I just wish I could hear him answer me, one more time.
