Sometimes, when you’re driving home in the dark, on the way home from your mom’s house where you’ve heard one too many “God’s truth” opinions voiced, the kids are laughing and playing “hats over” in the back seat of the car, it hits you and all you can do is let the tears flow because you remember a moment, a conversation, a pat on the shoulder, and you long to have him back.
This time, it was the election. I wanted to hear his opinion. I wanted to see him reading his Maclean’s magazine and wondering what might be in store for our country this time around. I wanted the voice of a man who liked to listen to other peoples’ opinions, challenge them, disagree with them perhaps, yet always respect them deeply. I wanted to thank him for raising me to have an opinion, a voice, and the confidence to believe in it even if it was different from his own.
I wanted it so badly I could almost taste it.
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5 comments:
Yup. For me it was driving down Portage Avenue just the other day thinking about the upcoming Olympics. Or 'Clympics like he sometimes referred to them.
*hug*
I'm so sorry Heather. Hard to imagine that your mother could love two very different men. I'm glad that it was the first one who raised you
You wouldn't believe how often I wish I could discuss the things I'm learning these days studying his favorite book...
So often I'll say to Lorna, "that was one of Dad's favorite verses..." or "I can just hear Dad quoting that verse and getting all choked up..."
She says it can still sneak up on you after thirty years, and after just two and a half, I'm pretty sure she's right.
I have a pretty good idea he'd be kinda happy about the outcome of the election, but kinda skeptical at the same time. I love it when I find myself having a thought that I know he would have shared. Sometimes I stil feel so connected and it's hard to believe I can't just call him up and hear that familiar "hullo" at the other end and have him share his hard-earned wisdom and observations with me.
I know this feeling. It happens often. ((hugs))
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