There are those little moments in life that you think nothing of, that you find plop you on your ass and knock the wind out of you.
I had a tree taken down today on the property. Nothing special and nothing that would cause me to think a mere 12 hours later I would be sitting in my back yard bawling like a baby.
My dad and I growing up put in many many many countless hours year after year heading up to the hill to bring down wagon fulls of wood for our own use and to sell . My summers were spent covered in a ton of sawdust, many streaks of mud, and more than a couple slivers.
I thought I had been more or less dealing with Dad’s passing. It has been over a year now. I haven’t really cried much because to be honest – I have never fit in with my family. I was adopted by my grandparents, thus most of his memorial was telling stories about growing up – that I wasn’t a part of. Most of the kids were grown and on their own even starting families of their own when I was home. The memorial felt like it was for them to mourn dad. Not me. So, I kept it to myself and I didn’t cry and was just there for mom and my son, who wasn’t doing well with the memorial part.
I remember being numb and feeling like most of the memorial I was having an out of body experience. Like I was watching myself but couldn’t feel anything.
Fast forward to today – I stepped outside tonight to the unusually warm muggy air being filled with the scent of sawdust and fresh cut wood. I walked over to see what the top of the stump the left me with looked like and when my hand came near my face my hands were full of the smell of cut wood.
I am now a child again, having just spent a whole day with dad cutting and stacking wagons of wood. This now is followed by the most painful pressure on my chest and an empty hole. The empty hole is the cause of the flash flood of tears, long thought gone. I miss him so much and wish, he was around to chat with. We always had the best chats while we were working. I remember one day I thought to try and get a rise out of my old man – and I started peppering him with sex questions. Oh that poor man, how he had no idea what to do. He answered every question the same. “You will never need to know that because your not going to have sex.” I still remember his sex talk. This is showing his old fashioned way…. “Don’t come home if your pregnant, I am not raising any more of you kids”
I know I am blessed. I got 7 additional years out of him that I wasn’t supposed to have. Shouldn’t that mean it doens’t hurt so bad?