Every day you are making memories....a one for the books. You will recall some, most its just another day and you wont remember the little things. That is until its the last memories you have of someone and then you remember everything from what you ate, to what came in the mail, to conversations, to looks to the last hug or kiss. My last memories always begin on April 2, 2005 of my father. They haunt me, they make me smile, they make me laugh and still make me cry. April 2, 2005 was a Saturday. I stopped at my parents house to see him. He went over some papers with me before he got ready to go on a much needed vacation to Florida, having just settled my grandmothers estate who passed on March 1, 2005. We sat on the porch, he told me about his garden he was planting and how he bought Nicolas a blueberry bush that should be coming soon and he was going to plant it. He had a list on the bar of things to do when he got home. I told him how I wanted my grandmothers apple dishware that was old and would match my kitchen and her cast iron pot that she made gravy and pot roast. He said hed help me pack that all up when he got home, too. I told him to come for dinner on Sunday with Brian so we could all get together before he left to drive to Florida on Tuesday. I went home. Last time I sat on the porch at the bar with him.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 11:55:45 +0000