Remember Me?

I haven’t posted in a while. Long story short: my father passed away. 

My dad was my hero. If I could have chosen any man to be my father, I would have chosen him. Every. Single. Time. He was the kindest, funniest, most caring man I’ve ever known. He’s the reason I believe I can do hard things. He’s the reason I am independent and strong. He’s the reason I have an otter tattoo.

My sister and I took care of him after our mom passed away. We hadn’t realized that his own health had declined; we had been focusing on our mother. He fell on Christmas Day and fractured two ribs. Caregiving became our full-time responsibility. 

My dad loved a good story. He was curious. He was funny. He was wise. He was daring. And he was very handsome. I remember when he helped me move into my college dorm room, my new friends told me, “Your dad is a babe.” 

The last week of his life was during an unusual winter storm in Nashville that delivered seven inches of snow and below-freezing temperatures for a week. My dad’s house was on the side of a hill, and we were snowed in. Normally, my sister and I traded days, so someone was always with him. Since we knew we weren’t getting up or down the hill, we decided to weather it together. It turned out to be perfect because we were both at his bedside, spending his last week as a family.

When I finally came home, I moved my garbage can back into my garage. Beneath it was a feather. A single perfect feather. How it sat unscathed under a garbage can for six days during a winter storm is beyond me. I took it as a sign that my dad is still with me.

I’ve had wow moments since I last posted. I’m ready to start sharing them again. I hope you’ll find your own along with me and share them here, too.