We had the annual family/neighborhood reunion this weekend.
It was different, walking in without holding your hand or carrying the loaf of bread that was always your contribution to the food table.
You weren’t there to talk down the IPA in the cooler or talk up the carrot cake.
There were no calls of “Hey dad!”, “It’s grandpa!” or “Hi Dwight!”
Every once in awhile I’d look around to spot you so I could tell you something funny that just happened. For a second, here and there, I forget that you’re not with us, any more; it makes my heart drop.
But I saw you…
I saw you represented in the multitude of Hoodletown Brewery shirts that we all received at your post-funeral celebration. Even though most of them are long-sleeved and the heat was pretty bad, the commitment to wearing them and thinking of you continues.
I saw you in the loving way your children parent your grandchildren.
I saw you in little Rylan Dwight; I’ll always think of you when I see him.
I saw you in the face of your son; he looks so much like you and his hugs are nearly as good.
I heard you in the voice of your daughter as she gently corralled *all* the grandkids and herded them into the house for rest time (you know how toddlers and hot afternoons with boring adults don’t really mesh).
I heard you in the voice of your brother; unfortunately, he was not talking down the IPA.
I thought of you when I took an extra serving of that pudding desert you liked so much.
You were there. I saw you, I heard you, I felt you.
You were there, but you weren’t.
It made me miss you more.
Beautifully said! Hugs and by the way you look so pretty!
Thank you for sharing your heart. You really have a gift in writing. Perhaps a new venture someday…