Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Irish Lament.....

April Fool's Day...who but my father would choose that day to die!  I talked to him on Monday and everything was fine....Wednesday, he was gone.

It still doesn't seem real.  I know I am leaving tomorrow to go to the funeral....I still expect him to be there waving at me from his doorstep or sitting in his gazebo with the heater going in the middle of winter.  His silence will echo when I walk into the house and...the adult part of me is prepared but the little girl part of me is not.

We did not have an easy relationship...lots of baggage and so many scars but, we managed to muddle our way into a father/daughter relationship late in life that I get to treasure.  I have good memories that take the sting out of the bad and I have no regrets.

He was so adamant that I drink Chaga mushroom tea and that it would cure my cancer.  His determination and love alone would be powerful enough to do that.  I drink my tea each day and I think of him standing on my left side with his hand on my shoulder...way to go, kiddo....keep drinking.