Memories, Cherished Memories

It's the little things that you remember. We got a sunny day today for the first time practically this year. It’s nice to see the sun up. The sunny days were something that my father and I used to love. When he and I were gardening, Dad and I never really enjoyed gardening in the rain. The sunny days were always the best, though it was hot. Dad would stop in at a 7-Eleven store and buy two of the largest Big Gulps that we could buy, load it up with ice and Pepsi and we’d end up drinking those things during the course of the day. Gardening was always better on sunny days being hydrated and caffeinated. Either that or we'd end up buying 2 2L apiece and down those during the course of the day. We'd always end up tired, hungry, and satisfied with the job that we did that day. The customers were satisfied with the work put in and we were happy.

One of my friends mentioned that he never remembered any time when my dad was NOT working on something during the course of the day. Whether it was trying to improve the house that we had built or doing some puttering around in the garden, he was always busy. Even as a kid, I had a hard enough time trying to keep up with his energy level.

Those are the little things I remember. Those memories of those days are ones I'll cherish.


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My father went December 16, 2009. It's been a full month since his passing. It's been a month of being numb, yet I'm not crying. I know that he is not in pain, that he would have wanted me to go on with life. So I put my energies into developing my business, being there for my wife and children, and just doing things when I feel I have the energy to do so.

I do my grieving on the inside...and on the boards and in quiet reflection of my father's life.

However I miss his smile, his love for his grandchildren...and the way his face used to light up when he saw his youngest grandson.

I miss the special little ways that he always let me know that he loved me. He always would slip a little money in my hand saying "Don't tell Mom." It was his special little way of letting me know he was there for me. I cherished his being there...not the money. As I said in my epitaph for my father, he was not a demonstrative man. He never really said "I love you." but making sure that we always had enough money was his way of silently saying "I love you, son." I still remember the first time he did that to my wife. She wasn't expecting a $50.00 to appear in her hand like that and she was startled as hell. It was his way of telling her, how much he loved her too.