Thursday, July 4, 2013

True Love


When Anna was a baby, my Dad would drive up from Eugene almost every week and take the two of us out to lunch. Anna would watch for him through the living room window, patiently waiting for his arrival.

He'd pull up in front of the house around noon and their special game would begin. Getting out of his car, he'd do an exaggerated tip-toe from bush to bush, pretending to hide from Anna while she got more and more excited inside. Eventually he'd pop up directly in front of her, on the other side of the window. She'd laugh and run to the door to meet him. He'd plop down on the couch and the two of them would begin an embrace that sometimes lasted for ten minutes. I've never seen her do that with anyone else, myself included.

Of course I think about my dad all the time, but the two times a year that I post about him (July 4 and December 5) are especially difficult. Looking through all the photos, waiting to see what memory jumps out at me, makes the loss so palpable. All the weeks without those lunches, all the years without…him.

My father died 6 years ago today.

I miss you, Dad.

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