Monday, May. 06, 2002 - 8:39 p.m.

Today would have been dad's birthday and I am missing him. Yet, I also am warmed and comforted by memories.

Perhaps one reason I am a writer is because my dad encouraged me to learn words. I have fond memories of sitting out on the porch while dad and I would look through a child's dictionary and talk about the words. Years later I would discover that dad used to write poetry. (I wish I could have read some of it.)

Like all relationships my relationship with dad had its ups and down. But I will always remember the last day I spent with him. It was one of the best days in my life. I think perhaps in his also.

We went to thrift stores,garage sales,and other places. We joked with each other, talked serious with each other and hugged each other. When he left that day to drive home I knew it would be the last time that I would see him. And I cried. (I think he knew also as he had been having health problems.)

Garden Of Memories Although you may be physically apart... The person who is gone still lives in a place of your heart. Although for now the tears may seem to endlessly flow.... A garden of memories is blooming and continuing to grow. Copyright ©2001

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Spring...The Renewal Of Life - Monday, Mar. 21, 2005
In Shock - Wednesday, Feb. 02, 2005
Life Goes On - Monday, Dec. 27, 2004
If I Could Have Any Wish - Sunday, Oct. 24, 2004
Sense of Humor And Lots Of Patience - Tuesday, Jul. 13, 2004

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