“Is not wisdom found among the aged?
Does not long life bring understanding? ” ~Job 12:12
I miss my Dad of not even 3 months ago. What do I miss most? His wisdom. I used to call him up on my evening walks to shoot the breeze and find myself discussing politics, life, love, faith,finances, and family from a perspective far above mine. Sure he liked to interrupt and talk over me at times, but then I find myself doing the same (like father like daughter.) Now I would give anything to have him talk over me and go on from his point of view. Now we talk in alternate realities – a combination of confused facts and how the telephone cords wrap around his room….
I will treasure beyond measure our last real face to face conversation at Thanksgiving. It was just Dad and I sitting quietly in the living room.I listened as he told me about his childhood in Plentywood; what it was like that first year after his father passed away (he was only 6) and the years that followed before his mother met and married his stepfather. The warmth he felt as neighbors welcomed his mother, his brother and him into their home for a Thanksgiving dinner unlike any he had ever had before. His recollection was vivid, his memories as sharp as the biting cold that gripped Plentywood in the dead of winter.
He told me of how much he and my mother loved my brother and I, and of how much he missed my mother. That he sometimes found himself waiting for her to come downstairs in the morning. He told me he wished I was home, that I wasn’t so far away, and that surely I could find a good job in Billings. He assured me then I could even get a puppy! He told me how proud he was of me and my brother. That we had done better than he had expected us to (he has a way with words.)
Last night after chatting briefly as the “telephone situation” was aggravating him – I told him I loved him and he thanked me for calling. Told me “It was good to hear from you again” as if I was an old BLM buddy.
My heart aches.
I LOVE YOU, DAD.