I want to remember the way his hand felt when it would squeeze mine…hard and quick with his thumb rubbing across the top of my hand.
I want to remember the way he would say “Hey fella!” whenever David came in the house.
I want to remember the way he would raise his eyebrow at you and say, “Thaaat’s right…thaaat’s right…” in that easy drawl that meant ‘it’s about time you saw it my way.’
I want to remember him pressing a $20 bill in my hand every time we parted so I could ‘get some gas’.
I want to remember the way he would drive the lawnmower past my bedroom window to wake me up on Saturday mornings….I want to remember him laughing about doing it.
I want to remember the way he showed me how to make a free throw with a basketball.
I want to remember the games of chase we would play together in the backyard….around and around the house as fast as we both could run.
I want to remember playing skeetball and putt putt together at Myrtle Beach. He always was trying to improve my form.
I want to remember the way he would always order something different at the mexican restaurant when I always ordered the same thing.
I want to remember him playing with Petra, using that falsetto voice to talk for a stuffed animal or clown or doll. Pretending to be startled when she would jump out at him from behind his armchair.
I want to remember all the stories he would tell about being an M.P. in the army. Most of them had to do with practical jokes he would play on other soldiers. I want to rememberr his sense of humor.
I want to remember how easily he could strike up a conversation with any stranger…on a plane, waiting in line, anywhere.
I want to remember the times he told me he was proud of me.
I want to remember the way he would say “Keep your guard up.”
I want to remember the way he would grin at you when he was cheating at checkers, and the funny expressions on his face when grandma beat him at Uno.
I want to remember him watching me march in the marching band all six years I was in the band – high school and college. He watched through rain, sleet, and snow – sometimes with binoculars. I want to remember that silly Indian tomahawk motion (and the song that went with it) he would make toward the other team we were playing against and the way he would pretend to shoot imaginary arrows at the other team’s players. I want to remember how that made my mama laugh.
I want to remember the way he would scratch his back on the door frame.
I want to remember our trips home from college when he would pick me up for the weekend or a break. I would talk to him nonstop; he would always listen. We would always stop at Krispie Kreme for ‘coffee’ and would end up bringing home a dozen doughnuts…minus two or three.
I want to remember the way he would tear up when he read a birthday or father’s day card from me.
I want to remember that he always cheated at checkers…and we didn’t really mind. Much…
I want to remember the tears he wiped from his eyes when he gave me away on my wedding day. It’s the only time I ever remember seeing him cry.
I want to remember all the people who came and told us how much he had influenced their life for the better – I wish he had known how much.
I don’t know that I can type any more today…I’m sure I’m going to keep adding to this list. But I’ve broken the scab off the wound already….I need time to let it weep…to let me weep.
Dacia–that’s really the best thing you can do now–don’t be afraid to remember him and love him and cherish it all. There is a way to move ahead and hold on at the same time. We continue to cover you and your whole family in prayer. Anything you need…
I feel for you and your writing style has put me in tears because I will dread this day in my future.
Thank you Darcia
Peace Love and Hugs from Above
Diana
http://www.justacloud.wordpress.com