The wind is blustery and the air is bitterly cold outside. Our little round straw bale house is holding in all it's heat from yesterday's moments of sunshine. I put an extra blanket on each of the boys last night, but they didn't really need them. This morning, in the pre-dawn darkness I lit some candles so that I had light to make my tea and not wake the boys. The wind and rain unnerve me, still, but the elements of this little house bring comfort and assurance, somehow. I suppose the whispers of trauma stay with us always, though they become quieter and somehow less obtrusive.
Today marks the anniversary of Daddy's death - again.
Daddy, it would be nice if there could be a year where we could just skip November 19th. I wish it wasn't a marked date, seared into the tapestry of our lives. I wish there wasn't a memorial off I-17 marking the scene. I wish I didn't have a fallen officer plate on my car with your name on it. I wish your badge wasn't fixed to that cold, hard stone.
If only you had been there; for all the monumental happenings, and for all the tiny moments that have changed us forever. When I won "Good Hands and Seat" on my 28 year old paint horse. When I fell in love with God. When I lost Addy, my beloved goat - I thought my heart was broken into pieces. When I won my first freestyle swimming competition. When Fancy was born on that incredibly cold morning, in the darkness. When I graduated from college. When I met Kris. When I gave birth to your four incredible grandsons. When I have been surprised by joy and when my heart has broken time and again. When I am alone. When I have succeeded and when I have failed. I wish I could show you my tree and tell you all the things that I have been shown in that place. I wish you were part of it all. In a way, I guess you have been.
But, the truth is, none of those things would have happened if you had been there. The tapestry would have been completely different. One strand of a different color, added in a different sequence, or multiple strands of various colors never included, would change the entire tapestry. The whispers of trauma remain, but I can see how the great weaver has continued his weaving and made what is supposed to be. And it is beautiful. I think, if you could see it, you would be as overwhelmed by the beauty of it as I am. But, I sure miss you. Always and forever.