My little sister and I discussed it yesterday- the further we get from his death, the more personalized our grief becomes. What Dad was to me was different than he was to her than he was to Mom, etc. And Mom's right, he would be a lot older now and not the same as he is in our memory. But that memory is still there and it's still as salient as ever and I can still hear his voice and I still get choked up thinking about how much he would have enjoyed these grandchildren of his. Oh, how we miss him. It's his birthday today and had he not died in that accident 14 years ago, he would be 70 years old today.
|the Syrup Festival in Henderson, TX|
|she was our Henderson hostess and it was so fun|
|treasure hunt on the farm complete with maps and compasses and teams|
|isn't she just lovely?|
|it was a GORGEOUS day in East Texas|
|I used to pick wildflower bouquets like this when I was little at my grandparents farm so I just had the best time|
And here's my step-father with 1 of his 2 granddaughters and his nine step grandkids. Stepping families are hard and I feel sorry for him on a few levels because we all miss Dad and how can he begin to "step" into those shoes? Of course he can't. I'm sure he doesn't want or expect to. But it's hard on those of us who miss our Daddy to forge a new relationship with our mom's new husband.
But I also feel so glad for Buck at the same time, this man who knows grief better than I do, having lost one of his two sons and his wife so tragically. Maybe all the newer life periodically injected into his quieter life- maybe that helps on some levels.
Just my thoughts and my own grief observed today.
And thanks be to God for the beauty of our East Texas weekend together.