I wrote this last year and the only thing that has changed is that I have now been without my Dad physically for 21 years, but he is always with me. One more memory I would like to share, and one that solidified our relationship was the many car trips we made together when I was at university. I lived in residence at university but was really only about 30 miles from my hometown. My Dad worked in the same city where I went to school and commuted to work–so I could go home on a whim as he was only a phone call away. We shared much precious time on those trips chatting and talking about our favourite things. Years later when we would be in the same car going into the city, he would point out a house that I particularly liked and say “That was always your favourite house wasn’t it Lou”? And it was my favourite house–but the best thing about that observation was that he remembered. And this weekend Dad I am remembering you – here are my kiss and hug to you. You are always with me xoxoxoxoxxooxoxox
It is Father’s Day weekend. I have not been able to celebrate Father’s Day with my Dad for twenty years. Quite simply I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes. I miss his good jokes. I miss his music. I miss him riding his bike over to my house for a cup of coffee and a visit. When I had a store, he would ride his bike uptown, stop at a café a couple of doors down and buy me a coffee and bring it to me. And he would always deliver it with a smile, and a comment on the weather. Little things. Boy, little things do mean a lot.
My Dad was a musician, and to this day when I hear someone play a fiddle, I cry. He played many instruments, but it is the fiddle that makes me cry. I don’t know why –
He never asked…
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