It is a cold winter's night as I sit tucked away in my library. It really is a lovely room for me...slate blue walls, black and white photography and overflowing bookshelves.
My Chicago calendar on the wall still says November. My life stopped just as November ended with the illness of my dad. The month of December with shopping and carols and Christmas trees were all put on hold to spend the month with my dad in Texas. It was a memorable month of spending time with my brothers and sisters and my mom as we held dad's hand, stroked his head.
There was no where else in the world I wanted to be but with my dad as he made this passing journey.
My dad and I shared such love of art, music, literature, poetry, theatre. I did indeed grow up to be my dad's daughters. This room is reflective of that. I even have two wonderful framed photos of my dad in his young acting days.
Life has a strange way of catching us off guard as if caught in a photo by surprise or just spinning around and finding our world has changed. So many things have I learned this winter, some I will share and others will just get tucked under my pillow.
So, tonight as the snow begins to fall again and the wind picks up, I bid you a cozy evening of firelight and story.
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2 comments:
Hi, been thinking of you - good to see you online a bit again. Did you not do columns the last two weeks or is the H-R just behind in putting them online? Love you!
-T.
:)
Bonjour Lou Ann, so sorry for your loss and pain . I have missed you and now understand why you were silent. I lost my father too yet he continues to encourage and inspire me from where he is now , because somehow I became more aware of his own precious life. m
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