An impossibly tough day. GI obstruction for our little one, hopefully headed off by early intervention. While waiting to pick her up when hopefully discharged, we visited Dad at the cemetery. A cold wind blew through the trees. We added a few flowers, the sunflower in honour of the ones the squirrel and birds planted at home – the ones we told him about in the hospital but he never got to see.
The city plaque will take months to come; I added a small one with a feather etched on the side. Anyone who read my post about portents will understand why.
We glimpsed a squirrel preparing for fall nearby. Our beloved squirrel whisperer would nod and smile in approval.
Dad is beside my beloved Grandma and Grandpa Reade by a lovely tree.
The cold wind continues to blow. I think of the Wind and the Willows story that you read to me, Dad. One of many beloved times we spent together sharing books. I am afraid of fall, but perhaps shouldn’t fear so much – I am in winter already. I will share the last writing you gave to me on the eve of your surgery next post.*
Deck time hit suddenly; it will be the post after Deck Time. ❤️