Total Pageviews

Saturday, February 9, 2013


 Early this morning, I was just waking up, and had a memory, or maybe it was a dream, of my father. My best friend, Ivy, and I had a wreck on a motorcycle just down the street from our house. We were just ten or eleven years old and, yes, we had no business being on a motorcycle. Well, Ivy was hurt pretty badly and her parents were out of town, so my mother was riding with her in the ambulance. I was just a little bruised and shaken. In all the commotion, I looked down the street and saw my father standing at the end of our driveway, arms crossed and looking very upset. I took off running to him. He grabbed me and held me so tight, I thought I would break in two.
 I thought about that for a minute, then went to the kitchen to make coffee. My phone rang. It was my oldest brother calling to tell me Daddy had just left this world.
 I feel so sad and alone right now, I don't know what to do with myself.
 I asked God for one more conversation with Daddy. He told me so many great stories about his childhood. I wanted to hear more.
 I believe God gave me that memory, this morning. Maybe so I could remember being frightened, needing comfort and running into the arms of my father. Maybe so I could see Daddy running into the arms of The Father.
 He is in the Presence. He is with Mom, and Sherry, and that little blond haired girl, Lauren.
 I will love and miss him for the rest of my life.


About Me

My photo

A wife, mother, and spoiler of small dogs, I grew up in a small West Texas town, with my eyes full of sand, and my heart full of joy.

white punks