Death-Day

SOME people, who shall remain nameless...think that it is morbid to gather on my Dad's death-day. But my Dad's death day falls in the perfect place, just 6 months from his birthday - so I love that we get to gather on that day and think of him. It's more than just thinking about him, it's aknowledging that we're all thinking of him together. Because I think of him a lot. And when I think about him I get a big knot in my throat, because I can only barely remember what his voice sounded like when he would open my front door and yell "Reb?!" Oh yes, I can still hear it.

One of my last memories of my dad was a hike he went on with my little family. We were practically out the door and he came over and invited himself along (not that I wouldn't have invited him, I just hadn't thought of it) I am so happy he did that! I'm so happy that he just dropped whatever he had planned for the day, pulled his sweat-band out of the car and came with us! He cheered the kids on when they started whining and even carried not-so-little Saydie (she was 5 years old for pete's sake!) I love my dad, and man do I miss him!!

We had a picnic on his grave. Not literally on his grave because it was in the sun, but instead we parked it in the shade nearby. We ate KFC and cookies and talked about life. He would have liked it and he wouldn't care if you thought it was morbid, so there!