every day since March 26th of last year, I have prayed for one more day. For my Dad to stay with us one more day. Honestly, in hopes that all the 'wrongs' would once again be 'right'. That the memories would all be good and peace would come over our family before this day.
The sand ran out. My luck ran out. He lost his battle. I am very sad.
One morning at the end of summer, this song came on the radio while I was getting ready. I am 50 but have NEVER heard this one. Wow. I stopped straightening my hair and sat. I listened intently. Then I ran down stairs and googled the words that I thought might make up the title.
Click the arrow to play. I apologize....you must be patient.
"One more dance with my Father". Yep, sure enough as I began typing, the words automatically fell in place. Sang by Luther Vandross. I read. I re-read. I quickly knew that the 'dance' was different for me. I didn't have a fairy tale childhood. It wasn't perfect. But it was all mine. Right, wrong, different. Whatever. But it was mine and it made me who I am today.
The dance would be a ride in town in the big truck or piece of equipment. The dance would be learning how to ride the tractor so I could mow the grass. The dance would be the annual vacation at the beach, up at dawn in search of the perfect sea shells. The dance would be talking about houses, looking at plans, talking about finances. Regardless, our dancing days have come to an end and my life will never be the same. And as my blog says.....I have to be ok with that. I have to try. I have to do what I promised him; move on. It is what it is.
So here's to you Dad! Until we meet again, I love you. I miss you. I will never forget some our heart-to-heart conversations no matter how much they hurt. I know you are pain free. I know you are comfortable. I know you are whole again and will watch over me the rest of my days.
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