This is the day I grew up. 35 years ago today, Dad died. This is the day I knew that life was not going to be what I thought it would be. There is no such thing as "having it all." Before this day in 1973 I thought bad things happened to other people. Then we were the other people.
We had a deacon in our church named Mort. He was retired and probably in his late 70's when he shared the saddest day in his life. It was the day his mother died. He was 12 years old. We carry some things all our lives. Not because we want to, but because it makes its mark on us.
Grief and loss has made me realize how God has carried me through life in a way that I cannot explain, but I know is real. There isn't a day that goes by that I do not miss my Dad or feel grateful for how I see him in myself and other members of the family.
When I laugh out loud at some comedy routine on TV, I remember watching Red Skelton on TV with Dad and both of us laughing and Mom wondering what was funny. I think I learned funny from him.
He wanted all of his kids to learn to play the piano. I think it was because he wanted to play along with us (he played the guitar). And so whenever I get to play along with Layne & Aldie, I think about how he would have loved to have done that. I know that I do.
I hope I'm getting better at this blog thing. Sometimes, I feel like I need to say something profound every time.
