Mom said there’d be days like this

September 20 is always a hard day for me. You’d think after 10 years, I’d just get over it and move on. However, I find almost the opposite is true. I find the loss of my dad in some ways more painful now than I did 10 years ago. His legacy lives on, but I miss the man who created it. And now, with children of my own, I wish they’d had the opportunity to know at least one of their grandfathers. Though we talk about him and do our best to make him real to his youngest grandchildren, it’s painful to realize that the memories I share will remain just that: memories.

Mom and I commemorated the day in our usual fashion: we met at Restland and placed flowers on the marker. This year, Crisana had a hand in helping to pick the color scheme. She chose a bunch with lots of red, because according to her, “Grampa always looked good in red.” If she only knew. This year, it was just Mom and I at the marker because Crisana and Trey were both in school. We realized we haven’t had a memorial day without children in 7 years! We enjoyed a delicious lunch at Picasso’s on Inwood before heading back to our lives. It was just the right way to spend this day.

But then…back to reality. Tonight is Join Scouting Night at McGowen, so I took the signs up to place in strategic locations. Due to city ordinances, we could not put the signs out any earlier than last night. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get by the school this morning to put them up, so I had to do it this afternoon. As I put them up, I noticed one across the street saying that JSN would be held at McNeil. I went inside to see about the possibility of hanging a sign up inside the building only to find out that nothing was communicated to the school office about this, and they weren’t prepared to have us meeting there tonight! So we’ll be meeting in a non-air-conditioned cafeteria, inconveniencing at least one staff member, and who knows what kind of turnout we’ll have.

September 20…the end of a beautiful life here on this earth and the beginning of eternity. I miss you, Dad.

1 comment

Comments are closed.