I must write soon about how much Dad loved coming over for “deck time” and enjoying Italian coffee outside on the weekends.
This picture from last year exemplifies how he was all in his glory during those visits, taking in the sun, the sounds of the birds on the lake, the garden and flower abundance all around. My resplendent Dad.
It’s a perfect crisp, sunny morning today, and we drink from the same mugs, but his space sits empty and a tissue box replaces a coffee carafe. I am exhausted from round the clock feedings for my beloved bunny, keeping her alive with sheer will and love. The garden in the yard below is unharvested and neglected. He would still be in wonder, though. I planted so much just to delight him and bring a smile. My hyperactive senses desperately reach out for his presence. I long for his voice and our laughter and deep talks. Where are you, Dad? Are you here?
