I can't remember how long it's been. I think it was four years ago, but time blurs in my mind. What I do remember is that it was Father's Day when dad died. It was a good homecoming for him. Four months before, he had been almost totally deaf, but the new hearing aids brought him back to life. We even talked on the phone earlier in the day, something that hadn't been possible for years. He was surrounded by the love of his family, and went quickly from a brain bleed. I'm not sad about it, but on days like today, I get nostalgic, wishing I could have another day with him.
He and mom wintered in Florida for years, and it was a special mid-winter treat for me to fly down for a week in February to help with some of the chores he found difficult to do. Actually, it was just an excuse to spend time with him and mom, going on Thursdays to the big flea market next to their mobile home park, having breakfast at the old mill or dinner at one of their favorite restaurants. And church. They loved their church down there, and I met many of their friends at worship, Sunday School, or Bible studies.
It was always a delight after boarding in snowy Buffalo, to disembark from the plane, inhale deeply the springlike air, and see the flowers in full bloom. Today, driving to town in the spring rain, the air fresh and warm, the fragrance and feel took me back to those Februaries in Florida and those pleasant days with mom and dad. I had him for sixty two years of my life, and mom is still going strong at 93. I am blessed beyond measure with the home they provided and the values and love that filled my life, and grateful for the memories that flood so easily into my mind, satisfying my heart. Many people don't have these kinds of memories. I am filled with them.
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